Yours Truly, Hermione
by ADHARYN
Summary: Collection of long, heart-wrenching one-shots ft. Hermione Granger. Includes staple pairings like Draco, Fred, or Sirius as well as rare pairings like Thorfinn, Cormac, or Cedric. Ratings range T to M from story to story. accepting requests for prompts
1. Yours Truly, Hermione

**~o~O~o~**

**Collection of One-Shots & Drabbles**  
**ft. _Hermione Granger_**

• Want to see a story written and brought to life? Comment/review with your desired prompt and rating (teen v. mature). Be as specific or vague as you like! _  
_

• Rating of each story will be in the chapter title... (T) or (M)

• Pairings with Hermione include but not limited to...

_**Silver Knights** _  
Draco Malfoy  
Theodore Nott  
Blaise Zabini  
Adrian Puecey

_**Marauders** _  
Sirius Black  
James Potter  
Remus Lupin

**_Weasley Clan_**  
Fred Weasley  
Charlie Weasley  
Bill Weasley  
George Weasley

_**Golden Knights**  
_ Cedric Diggory  
Cormac McLaggen  
Fabian Prewett  
Gideon Prewett  
Harry Potter

**_Dark Knights_**  
Thorfinn Rowle  
Regulus Black  
Severus Snape  
Fenrir Greyback


	2. MARAUDERS

**《 MARAUDERS 》**

__... stories that transcend time itself, throwing Hermione into the path of those troublesome but charming Marauders whether in the present or past__...__


	3. Slip of Emotion (remus l) (M)

**• Remus Lupin || Time Travel || Marauders Era Hogwarts**

**• Rated m for language & explicit sexual content, read at your own discretion!**

* * *

**SLIP OF EMOTION**

Her life was an absolute disaster.

She'd always been loyal to Harry- she'd do anything for her best friend. She'd fought through a bloody war with him only to come out on the other end victorious but heavily scarred. But even the golden witch felt a little over her head with _this_.

It was an unfortunate accident in the Ministry's Department of Mysteries that made her fall back in time. She knew the moment she landed in front of a much younger Professor McGonagall that something had gone seriously wrong. She'd pleaded to be taken to Dumbledore immediately, who only confirmed her worst suspicions. There was no way to send her back.

When she told him about the future she'd come from, he'd paled at the prospect of the long fight ahead of them. It was only 1973, after all. The birth of Harry Potter was nearly a decade away, and there was no guarantee that Voldemort had even created all of his Horcruxes yet.

So he offered to de-age her. Part of her knew it would probably be smarter for her not to take that offer; her very presence at Hogwarts while the marauders were there could alter the fabric of time. The smallest action could cause her best friend to never be born. But stranded in the past all by herself, she couldn't help but make that one selfish choice for herself. At least she'd get to see and grow with the marauders- at least from a distance. She took that risky choice with a promise to herself. She wouldn't interfere with the timeline during her time at Hogwarts. She couldn't risk erasing Harry.

She went about it precisely how Hermione Granger would- systematically and meticulously. Dumbledore insisted on having her sorted, despite her pleading for him to just place her in Hufflepuff.

Bargaining with the Sorting Hat was _not easy- _especially in front of the whole school right before the opening feast_. _The wretched thing refused her Hufflepuff simply because she had the audacity to try and tell it what to do. He almost put her in Gryffindor just to spite her, spouting how only a Gryffindor could be foolhardy enough to demand something from the Sorting Hat. Perhaps it was the paralyzing panic that struck her when the hat suggested such an outcome that changed its mind. There would be no way for her to blend into the background if she were in the same house as the marauders. She could already see their curious faces watching the uncommonly long sorting of the transfer student from the Gryffindor table. The bloody hat finally relented, showing her some mercy as it sorted her into Ravenclaw.

She snuck a few glances at them throughout the feast that night, watching them laugh together. That was when she made herself a second promise. While she wouldn't interfere during Hogwarts, she would do everything to prevent the dark fates she knew awaited them in adulthood. They deserved that chance.

**~o~O~o~**

**~ 3rd year... (Hermione's First Year with the Marauders)**

Classes were boring, to say the least. Having already done it once, she didn't find it challenging to do the bare minimum for her classes. She didn't risk making any friends, portraying herself as an awkward and quiet girl. She easily blended into the noise of the daily happenings of Hogwarts. Most of her days were spent visiting Hagrid or compiling lists and research for when the war would eventually hit.

The days blended into weeks, weeks into months.

Until one month, she noticed something she couldn't ignore. She'd known Professor Lupin had been a werewolf since he was a child, but that hadn't prepared her for his disappearances, nor the haggard state in which he came back. Perhaps it was because she was hyperaware of the marauders, but she could track every scar she saw on him.

As the months came and went, winter blooming into spring, Remus' condition only worsened.

Hermione recalled the marauders didn't become animagi until their fifth year. Which meant Remus had a whole two years of suffering on his own. She knew she couldn't offer him comfort herself, so she did the next best thing.

Every month thereafter, an assortment of chocolates would be waiting for Remus the week leading up to the full moon. The first time he received the package of sweet concoctions, the marauders all whooped and teased.

"Moony's got an admirer," Sirius whistled.

"Who's the lucky witch?" James bumped his friend on the shoulder.

Remus blushed, scratching his head in confusion. He wished he knew. Though he loved his friends and wouldn't trade them for anything, it was always Sirius and James who drew the ladies' heads.

After the full moon that week, an owl flew up to him as he lay in the hospital wing in the early hours of dawn. Despite it being a school owl, it landed very carefully, waiting for him to untie the package. Inside was steaming hot cup of cocoa with a small note tucked next to the mug.

_You've been so brave this month. I can't even imagine how difficult it must be going through the transformations alone. I hope you feel better. _

_P.S. Please don't worry, your secret is safe with me. And please don't try to find me. _

His friends had been just as confused as he at the mystery note he'd received. If it was an admirer, why in the world would they not want to reveal themselves?

"Maybe she's shy?" James suggested.

"Or terrified to be around me," Remus muttered.

"None of that!" Sirius reprimanded, smacking his friend with a pillow. "She clearly sees what a catch you are."

"If only I knew who she was," Remus sighed.

But every route led to a dead end. He'd made a note of checking the penmanship of every girl he interacted with, but none of them matched the clean, precise strokes of his mystery girl. He'd tried to track it by scent, but the sender had been smart enough to mask the smell on whatever she sent him. She must be rather sharp to anticipate masking her scent, Remus noted with respect.

Every month thereafter, the chocolates came without fail. He especially found himself looking forward to the notes after his full moons- it was all that gave him a little light at the end of the tunnel when he crawled into the shrieking shack every month to transform. It was painful- almost unbearable. But if he just withstood it for the night, he'd get to receive another one of her notes in the morning.

Even in the summer, the monthly owls never stopped.

**~o~O~o~**

**~ 5th year**

Fifth-year came with a shift. Hermione suspected it was sometime around the winter holidays that the marauders finally completed their transformation into animagi. Now not only would Remus return from the full moons with the occasional scar, but so would Sirius and James.

Yet some things never changed. Her only friends were still Hagrid and Professor McGonagall.

But when the time came for O.W.L.'s, she was torn. She didn't want to do badly, simply because the scores and records would later determine her adult life. Despite being in a different house, Professor McGonagall still became a close mentor to her and advised her sternly to do her best and not worry about scores. She was the only one aside from Dumbledore who knew the truth.

When the scores were released, she was the only one in the entire school to get eleven Os. Unfortunately, Dumbledore and McGonagall were not able to keep that quiet- not when all the other Professors could see no reason not to publicly commend Hermione for her spectacular work.

The whispers spread faster than Fiendfyre.

_Who is she? _

_I didn't know she did so well in her studies- she rarely speaks. _

_Do you think she'd tutor me? _

_Which family is she from? _

_Has anyone actually talked to her? _

To her relief, Ravenclaw provided her the perfect cover. She was easily able to blend herself into the crowd of intellectually oriented students, forcing herself back into the background noise. She'd almost succeeded had it not been for that one fateful day.

Hermione was sitting on one of the window sills in the courtyard when she approached her.

"Hello there." The friendly voice made Hermione freeze. _No. She'd made it 2 years. Not now._

"Hello," Hermione replied shortly, glancing up at Lily.

"Urm..." Lily shuffled uncertainly for a moment, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "I don't think we've ever really met. I'm Lily."

"Hermione," she nodded briefly, praying the girl would get the hint and leave her alone.

"Evans!" A voice boomed from across the courtyard. Hermione looked up, her heart stuttering to a halt as James Potter strolled up to them, with Sirius and Remus flanking him.

Lily rolled her eyes at James. "Potter. Hi Remus, Sirius," she nodded to the others instead.

"Anyway," she turned back to Hermione. "I was wondering whether you'd be interested in studying together for the upcoming arithmancy exam. Gryffindors have that class with Ravenclaws."

Hermione looked up at Lily blankly. She could feel the curious glances of the marauders on her.

"Sorry," she replied blandly. "I can't focus in groups."

There was a moment of awkward silence before Lily let out a forced laugh. "That's okay, I understand. How about lunch or dinner instead?"

Hermione's jaw clenched. _She wished he didn't have to do this. _

"Sorry I'm busy."

Lily's jaw dropped slightly in surprise as the marauders recoiled in confusion. Hermione quickly began gathering her things, hoping to get out of there before she left more of an impression.

"She didn't even say when," James scoffed, appalled by the rudely brief response Hermione offered.

"Do you not need to eat ever?" Sirius exclaimed in sarcasm.

Hermione ignored them, swinging her bag over her shoulder.

"Excuse me," James exclaimed. "That's a bit rude of you to ignore us!"

Hermione didn't even pause as she weaved her way past the group. As she walked down the corridor, she heard Remus mumble to Lily in assurance.

"Don't pay her any mind, that was out of order."

Gulping down the bile in her throat, Hermione forced herself to walk away. She still had to wait. At least until James and Lily were together.

**~o~O~o~**

**~ 6th year**

Up until that point, Hermione had been vicariously living through the marauders- silently watching them. It was the one thing that gave her solace- the irrefutable reminder of the people she was doing all this for in the first place.

Yet after that encounter with Lily at the end of the previous year, they'd all taken a cold interest in her. She could no longer risk watching them because now, when she entered the room, they'd glance at her with a wary expression. She was no longer invisible. The best she could do was remain inconsequential.

With the transition into their sixth year came the tide of hormones and teenage foolery. At least some things never changed, whether it be the 70s or the 90s. Everyone was dating. Every week there would be a new couple in the spotlight or another rumor circulating. Luckily James's infatuation with Lily was only growing, regardless of their constant bickering. Sirius Black had already gotten a head start to the rest of the school, and had frequently been dating with various partners since the fifth year. But that was hardly surprising. Even in the future, Sirius's reputation with the ladies was no secret.

But the one thing she hadn't expected was to see Remus get in on the action.

It'd been a coincidence she found out at all. But one night she'd taken a trek up to the astronomy tower to clear her head- a horrible decision in retrospect given it was one of the most popular destinations for couples second to broom cupboards.

She'd opened the door to find Remus Lupin plastered to a seventh-year Hufflepuff. He had her up against the wall, nipping at her lips as she whimpered in pleasure, pulling him closer by the strands of his hair. They'd turned to Hermione in surprise. Remus' hair was mussed, and she could see the predatory gleam in his eyes in the moonlight.

"Sorry," she mumbled immediately, backtracking hastily as she closed the door.

She supposed she knew sexual exertion could help keep the wolf at bay. She simply hadn't expected to see it in action. For some reason, Remus was exclusively set aside in her mind for Tonks. Despite the infatuation she'd had for her Defense professor back in the day, she was far too young to think of him that way back then. But now she couldn't get the image of the younger, more virile Remus out of her mind.

At first, she tried to push it out of her mind. Perhaps that girl was his girlfriend. Maybe they were in an exclusive non-relationship type situation. But it didn't take long for the rumors to catch up to her. Sitting in the Ravenclaw common room, she overheard the whispers about the usually level-headed Gryffindor.

"He was absolutely _wild_ when we were together," someone whispered. "I would've never expected it, he seems like such a gentleman."

"Oh, he is," someone responded. "He tried to apologize the morning after until I demanded a repeat performance. It was bloody _hot._"

"Lucky witches," their friend grumbled. "You know how rare it is to find one of these boys who actually knows what they're doing? I've been dating the same guy for weeks, and he still only manages to fumble around enough to cop a feel. _Clumsily _at that."

Hermione inhaled sharply. She'd been in the middle of writing her monthly note to Remus, but her quill hovered above the paper in indecision. It seemed like he found another outlet for his werewolf symptoms. Perhaps it was time for the notes to stop. Besides, he even had the marauders out on the full moons with him now- he was hardly alone anymore. He probably didn't even think twice about her silly notes. If anything, he might find them creepy after so many years.

She tucked her quill away, taking the half-written note, hesitating for a moment before she slipped it into the fireplace. The flames took to the parchment immediately, erasing the traces of her words as it burned and crumpled to ash.

**~o~O~o~**

**~ 7th year**

Her Hogwarts years were finally coming to an end once again. To her extreme relief, James and Lily finally started dating after a few weeks of working together as Heads. Dumbledore had offered her the position. He'd been obligated to, after all, given her high rankings academically. But she'd promptly refused, insisted she wasn't active among the student body.

The entire school knew the day Lily and James had started dating- the man was flying high as a kite in his happiness. Hermione had stumbled out onto the grounds, finding shelter near a tree by the lake. The tears came without warning, but once they started, she couldn't stop them. It had been five long years of isolating herself, and it had finally happened. Harry's parents were finally together. She could see the light at the end of the tunnel.

But her persona was already solidified. Everyone thought her an aloof, cold-hearted witch. Doing a complete change now would only seem more suspicious. Besides, after so many years of pretending, she didn't even know who Hermione Granger truly was anymore.

Hermione sighed, realizing it wasn't over yet. Maybe she could relax a little now. But she couldn't tell them the truth until after they married. Perhaps even after Lily got pregnant. She'd have to work behind the scenes with Dumbledore the best she could.

~o~O~o~

Remus could feel everyone's high emotions as the year came to its end. They were so close to graduating, but the looming war also had everyone confused about the future ahead of them. It wasn't helping that the full moon was in a week- his emotions and usually impeccable patience were frayed.

An owl interrupted his thoughts, flying through the open window and landing smoothly on his bed. It waited patiently, giving a gentle hoot towards Remus. It was a school owl, he realized with recognition. It'd be _her_ then.

At some point last year, he'd stopped receiving notes from his mystery correspondent. At first, he was concerned something had happened. She'd never missed a note for four years. Every morning after a full moon, there would always be an owl waiting with a letter from _her_.

But the month after the first absence of her note, he received a single bar of chocolate the week before the full moon. No note. That month, there was no owl the morning after his transformation. And so it continued every month thereafter. A single chocolate bar the week before rather than the usual assortment he used to receive, and no note. He hadn't heard from her in over a year now. His only reminder of her now was the monthly chocolate bars.

At first, he'd been too frustrated to even talk about it. He felt bad for Padfoot and Moony, who'd been his punching bags the first few months after the notes stopped. How could she just _stop? _No explanation. No goodbye.

But the package today was bigger than the usual bar of chocolate he received. Curiously, he untied it from the owl, giving him a treat from the stash James kept for his owl, Athena. Tugging the strings on the box loose, he flipped it open. Inside, multiple lay vials of a smoky blue potion and a note. Remus snatched the letter out of the box heatedly, tearing it open.

_It's been a long time, but I had to share this. It took a few years to perfect, but the potion will allow you to keep in control during the full moon and retain your memories. It's not a cure, but it's the least I can offer you. One dose a day every day for the week leading up to the full moon. Only then will it work. _

_I hope this helps. _

Remus stilled in disbelief. It wasn't possible. How in the world could such a potion exist? Yet he knew instinctively that it wasn't a hoax. He trusted this person he had yet to meet.

His nostrils flared, and Remus brought the slip of parchment up to his nose. He caught a whiff of warm vanilla and sugar that sent blood rushing to his head. His lips pulled up into a satisfied grin. In her rush to get him the potions, she'd forgotten to mask her scent from the note. It would be her first and biggest mistake.

He could track a scent.

Remus could recognize the honeyed scent clinging to the parchment. It was familiar. Yet not so familiar that he could immediately place it. It was on the tip of his tongue. Perhaps he passed her in the halls. Maybe he had a class with her. But he would find her if he had to go through every bloody student to do so.

~o~O~o~

He was on his way to the Great Hall when he saw her on the other end of the corridor.

Hermione Clearwater was a mystery all on her own. She'd transferred to Hogwarts in their third year with no story- the student who seemed to pop up out of nowhere. She'd had the longest sorting he'd ever seen. He'd had a few classes with her over the years, and she'd always kept to herself. He'd thought she was merely shy. One time he'd seen her with Hagrid, helping feed the thestrals- though he couldn't see them himself. Because of that, he'd thought she'd have a kind heart. But after seeing the cold manner in which she treated Lily a few years ago, the marauders had all been wary of her- himself included. He didn't think she had any friends unless you counted the thestrals.

Hermione staunchly kept her gaze averted from him, her eyes seeming to look right past him as she made her way across the corridor. She passed him quickly, yet that brief moment in her proximity had him halting in his tracks. Her scent hit him with the force of the full moon, his breath stuttering to a stop as his nostrils flared.

The stale, fading scent of vanilla sugar on the parchment he received was nothing compared to the warmth and vibrance of her. It was like she'd stepped straight out of a bakery. How could he never have noticed?

Hermione was oblivious as Remus turned, his eyes narrowing on her retreating figure.

The realization of her identity hit him like a thousand stones with even more questions. No one as cold and unfeeling as she pretended to be could've sent him chocolates and comforting notes for years. She didn't even stop sending letters after their awkward encounter in the fifth year, so why did they stop? She did so much for him, but he didn't think they'd had a single conversation with each other- so _why?_

Hermione made her way to the library, oblivious to the young werewolf stalking her. She'd been a lot less paranoid after James and Lily started dating, slowly opening herself up to the world once again. She nodded to Madam Pince on her way in, offering her a small smile she would've been too scared to try even a few months ago. She was browsing through the book stacks for a bit of light reading when she felt someone approach her.

She whirled around, exhaling as she saw him.

"Amos," she breathed in relief, holding a hand to her chest. "You scared me."

"Sorry, Hermione," the young wizard said sheepishly, turning a charming smile on her. It was uncanny how much Amos Diggory resembled his future son. "I just wanted to thank you for agreeing to tutor me for the potions final. I know you usually don't like working closely with people."

Hermione held back a grimace, unable to offer him any excuses. "I'm glad I can help," she merely said, giving him a genuine smile. It felt good. She finally felt like herself again, helping others.

Remus watched from the other end of the library, his heightened hearing picking up on their conversation. What he heard did _not_ make him happy. If anything, the mere thought made his blood boil. Hermione rarely lets anyone converse with her longer than one minute, much less offer to help them. Unless it was him around a full moon. How long had this been going on? Was this why she stopped writing to him?

"So..." Amos chuckled as he ran his fingers through his hair nervously. "I was wondering if you had any plans this weekend?"

Remus' eyes darkened, and he started walking straight towards them before he'd even decided what he wanted to do.

"I don't yet, no," Hermione said with a small smile.

"Would you-"

Remus came upon them, his hand circling Hermione's wrist in an unrelenting grip. "Excuse us, Diggory."

"Remus," Hermione breathed in surprise.

Without waiting for a response, he dragged her out of the library. Hermione was too baffled to protest as he led her to the nearest classroom, closing and locking the door behind them. He didn't know whether Diggory had tried to follow them, but he certainly wouldn't find them now.

"What in the world?" Hermione protested, finally jerking her hand away as she collected her wits.

Remus dug the note out of his pocket, throwing it on the table beside them. Hermione's eyes followed the movement, and she paled as she realized what he was showing her.

"Is that supposed to mean something to me?" She asked shakily.

Remus' eyes narrowed in annoyance. He took a step closer, but she only stepped back immediately. "Nice try, Hermione. But you forgot to mask the scent on this note. It only took you five years to slip up, but I _finally_ found you."

He advanced on her until she was caught between him and a desk.

"Why?" He bit out.

"Why what?" She asked with a weary sigh.

"Why'd you do it? Why'd you stop?"

Hermione averted her eyes from his piercing hazel ones. "You just seemed like you could use a pick me up," she said tiredly. "It wasn't a big deal," she shrugged, trying to play it off.

"Wasn't a big deal?" He growled, his voice dropping an octave.

Hermione's gaze flew to his in time to catch his eyes flashing gold. "Remus," she said cautiously.

"Wasn't a big deal?" He took a step closer. "Those notes were the only thing that kept me sane back then, and you're trying to write them off?"

"That's not true," she insisted quietly. "You have supportive friends. You would've been fine."

"I do have supportive friends," he nodded. "But they were not who I thought of as I felt my consciousness slip away every full moon."

Hermione's eyes widened.

"Do you even know how much it affected me when you stopped writing?" He pleaded. "I was going insane- I was rough with Sirius and James, I was a moody arsehole, and nothing made it bloody better- not even chocolate!"

"I'm sorry," she whispered, looking genuinely regretful. "I had no idea."

"Why'd you stop?" He demanded.

"I still sent you chocolates every month," she said weakly.

"Damn the chocolates," he replied in an uncharacteristically frustrated tone as his eyes flashed gold once again. "You think it's the chocolates I cared about after all these years?"

"It just seemed time," Hermione shrugged defeatedly. She could hardly admit hearing about his trysts had made her reconsider whether her notes even made a difference. Clearly, she had assumed wrong.

"Is it because of Diggory?" He inhaled tensely.

She wanted to laugh at the mere suggestion, but seeing his eyes switch rapidly between gold and hazel made her realize he hadn't been joking.

"No," she assured fervently. "I just- You seemed to be doing better around the full moons, and I know you have James and Sirius there for you now. I just didn't think the notes did much for you, I guess." That was close enough to the truth.

"I'm not even going to bother asking how you knew about my being a werewolf, much less Sirius and James," Remus rolled his eyes.

"I'm just observant," Hermione shrugged.

"You made me that potion," he pointed out, watching her closely.

"I did," Hermione nodded reluctantly. "Don't worry, I've checked the balance of ingredients probably a hundred times. It works."

"I never thought it wouldn't," he admitted.

Remus took one step closer until she could feel the heat of his body. Hermione stopped breathing entirely, looking up at him warily. The slight movement didn't escape Remus' notice, who froze a foot away from her.

"Are you afraid of me?" Remus asked in concern, his brows furrowing conflictedly.

"Of course not!" Hermione bristled indignantly.

The pieces of the puzzle fell into place as he picked up on her racing heart. The faint blush on her cheeks and neck disappeared under the neckline of her shirt, making him wonder how far it went. The way her breath hitched whenever she met his eyes, the way she gulped every time he took a step closer. If she wasn't scared of him, there was only one other explanation. Though he wasn't as public about it as Sirius, Remus had his fair share of experience with witches.

The realization that Hermione wanted him tugged his lips into a satisfied smile.

Hermione stared at his eyes, wholly entranced from finally seeing him up this close. She'd watched them from a distance all these years, but Remus was the only one of the group with whom she'd genuinely been friends in her own time. She and Sirius were friendly, but they mostly bickered and teased each other. Seeing him this close disarmed her.

Remus' precariously held control dissolved when Hermione started nibbling on her lip as she stared at him. Something in her gaze felt familiar like she knew him- _really knew him_. With a groan of defeat, he closed the remaining distance between them, pulling her to him in an urgent kiss.

Hermione gasped as Remus pulled her flush against himself, his lips molding over hers, coaxing a response. He took advantage of her surprise, immediately deepening the kiss as he made her dizzy from the onslaught. His kisses peppered down her neck as she gasped in a breath, and he smirked as he felt her tremble under his hands.

"You should've come to me if this was how you felt," he whispered against her neck, pressing his lips to the blood rushing right under the surface of her soft skin. Her scent was intoxicating.

His hands clenched on her hips before his fingers ghosted under her blouse, fluttering over the warm skin there. His hand moved up her sides until he splayed his fingers around her waist, pulling her flush against him. He basked in the sensation of Hermione shaking under his touch.

"Wait," she suddenly pushed him back, stepping aside to un-wedge herself from Remus and the table. "This isn't a good idea... the full moon is in a week."

Remus stilled. "I thought you said you weren't afraid of me."

"I'm not," Hermione argued hotly, the hesitance in her voice gone, replaced with the long-dormant assertion of Hermione Granger. "But I refuse to be one of your full moon flings," she pointed out, crossing her arms over waist protectively. "That's not why I helped you."

Remus raised an eyebrow curiously. _Full moon flings? _His widened in realization. How could she know?

"Rumors spread faster than fire at Hogwarts," Hermione shrugged, anticipating his question.

"That's not what this is," he choked out. _How could she think that? _

"Look, I know you and your friends don't particularly like me." Hermione tried to hide the small wince that came instinctively, but Remus' eyes narrowed on her as he picked up on her reaction with curiosity. "I know I made it rather easy for you all. So I don't want some misplaced gratitude," she insisted stubbornly.

"Gratitude?" Remus laughed in disbelief. Leave it to this enigma of a witch to get everything so horribly wrong. "You ridiculous witch. Do you know how many nights I spent thinking of you? Wondering who you were? Trying to find you? Wishing you'd reveal yourself?"

Hermione's closed her mouth, her protests slipping out of her mind.

"You're not a fling," he emphasized, advancing on her once again as Moony rose to the surface, his eyes bleeding into gold. Hermione didn't retreat this time, watching his eyes, entranced. "You've been more like a bloody obsession. And to be honest, I don't know who wants you more anymore- the wolf or me."

"You want _me_?" Hermione asked quietly.

He understood what she meant. Did he want her? Or did he just want another witch to satiate the nerves before the full moon?

"_You_."

Hermione froze. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. She assumed she'd end up changing the timeline eventually when saving the Potters, but she'd never anticipated this. Remus was supposed to be as off-limits as James. He was supposed to be with Tonks, wasn't he? What about Teddy? Yet the part of herself she'd been repressing for years soared in happiness. She's lived for others all this time. Could she live for herself now? Even though it could change so much? There was no way back to her own future, anyhow.

Maybe it was time she started living for herself?

A small smile graced her lips as a whimper of relief escaped her. One moment Remus was watching her contemplate his answer, and the next, his arms were full of the witch. She jumped into his arms, her hands twining around his neck as she sought out his lips eagerly.

Remus readily obliged, maneuvering them until he had her seated on the edge of the table. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him into the cradle of her thighs. Remus groaned, instinctively pushing himself against her, smirking when she felt her breath hitch.

"Like that, do you?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "You're very different from what I remember."

Before he could ask, she pulled him back down, nipping at his lips as her fingers latched onto her hair. His hands wandered to her legs, trailing up her thigh until his hand brushed against her underwear. He could _feel_ the heat emanating from her. When she felt her hips rise to meet him, he boldly drifted under the fabric, groaning as he tore his lips away from her.

"You're already so wet."

"Best make use of it then, shall we?" She grinned saucily.

Her hands flew to his buckle, making quick work of the buttons on his trousers. His breathing stuttered when she reached into them, wrapping her fingers around him as she squeezed him curiously.

"Bloody hell, witch. Do you even know what you're doing to me?"

Hermione looked up at him with an impish smile. "I'm starting to." She stroked him firmly, loving the way his eyes shuttered in desire, and his breath came out in small pants.

"I want you," she admitted softly.

"As the lady commands." He gently knocked her hand out of the way, pushing closer to her. He moaned in surprise as he was immediately met with the warmth of her bare flesh, surprised that she'd already vanished her knickers. _Had she even had her wand out? _

He teased the tip of himself at her entrance, relishing in the way her breath hitched with anticipation. It was all he could do to hold on to the fraying threads of his control; luckily, Moony was as curious about her reactions as he was, which bought him some much-needed patience. Hermione, on the other hand, had lost the last semblance of hers. Wrapping her legs around him, she pulled him forward in one smooth stroke, moaning as she fell back on the table with her eyes fluttering closed. She was surprisingly more than ready for him, but that didn't ease the sudden fullness she felt as she adjusted to him.

"Fuck," he grunted. Remus' hands flew to her hips, holding her still as he struggled to collect himself.

After a moment, Hermione started twitching in his hold. "Move," she whispered breathily. "Please."

"I- I," he looked up at her, and Hermione watched as his eyes flipped between their normal hazel and bright gold. "I don't think I can be gentle," he warned her. "Not now."

Hermione nodded, knowing the full moon was only a week away. "There's time for gentle later. I just want you- as you are." She lifted her hips in invitation.

His eyes narrowed in approval before he took control. His hands tightened on her hips, pinning them against the table. Pushing her skirt up to her waist, he snapped his hips against hers, watching himself disappear within her. Hermione whimpered, squirming under him as he picked up a punishing pace, unable to do anything but take his thrusts as the pleasure stoked her higher and higher still.

He could feel her walls fluttering around him as her eyes closed. She was close.

"Look at me," he demanded.

Her eyes flew open, and though it was gold eyes that stared back her, she knew it was Remus' gaze. He released her hips, drawing her up so he could claim her lips in a desperate kiss. His hands found their way to her arse, fingers gripping the supple flesh as he drew her up to meet his thrusts.

The new angle made his pelvic bone brush against hers with every stroke, the added friction sending her soaring. She tore his mouth away from his a high pitched moan escaped her.

He dug his fingers into her arse, driving into her even harder. "That's it," he whispered into her ear. "Come, Hermione. I've got you."

His breath at her ear and his hands on her body pushed the pleasure to its crest. Hermione cried out as she felt herself shatter. Remus' movements stuttered from the sheer force in which Hermione pulsated around him, drawing a groan from him as he lost himself in her.

Their thundering heartbeats quieted until the only sound left in the room was the sound of their recovering breaths. He stroked her back gently, holding her close as he buried his head in her neck.

That was bloody fabulous.

"Where did you come from?" He asked reverently.

Hermione laughed, hugging him back. "It's a long story, you wouldn't believe me."

Remus pulled back, his once again hazel eyes assessing her sharply. Hermione's gaze was filled with a relaxed warmth, only magnified by her easy smile. _This _was who she really was. This was the girl who fed thestrals in her spare time. This was the girl who would send a scared and struggling third-year boy chocolates and notes of support, expecting absolutely nothing in return- not even a thank you.

"Try me."

**~o~O~o~**

**Welp. That was fun to write.**  
**What'd you guys think?**


	4. GOLDEN KNIGHTS

**《 GOLDEN KNIGHTS 》**

_... They were both always in the spotlight, but hardly for the same reasons. Little do they know, they're not as different as they thought..._


	5. Rescue (cedric d) (T)

**• Cedric Diggory | World Cup | Goblet of Fire**

* * *

**RESCUE**

Hermione could feel the wind knocked out of her as she was shoved outside the stream of panicking crowds. She tripped over her feet, falling back against a tent, curling in on herself as she tried to avoid the stampede of feet. The fumes of fire and burning fabric suffocated the air, the thrumming chants of the Death Eaters underlying the panicked screams of everyone fleeing for their lives.

She climbed to her feet, looking around wildly for Ron or Harry. But the crowd blended into a sea of heads, and not even their distinct red hair could help Hermione find the Weasleys at this moment. She could feel the fear begin to rise like bile to her throat.

She had no idea where to go.

She couldn't apparate.

She was muggleborn. And Death Eaters were terrorizing the camp.

Hermione felt a firm grip close around her arm, yanking her out of the way of the crowds. She almost screamed as the person dragged her down a small slope into a ditch, away from the people- away from the witnesses.

"Let. Me. GO!" Hermione flailed blindly, the panic well and truly set in.

"Granger!" A familiar voice grunted as her elbow met his ribs. "Stop- it's me."

She stopped struggling to look back in surprise. "Cedric?" She cried incredulously. "What are you doing?"

"What are _you_ doing?" He reprimanded her gruffly. "Those Death Eaters are not a joke, and you're the most famous muggleborn of your generation!"

"I know!" She bit out. "I was separated from the Weasleys. And Harry. I have to find Harry!" She exclaimed, jumping to her feet as she realized the danger her best friend was in.

Cedric jerked her back down without preamble. "No. At this rate, you're more likely to find a Death Eater than Potter. We need to get you out of here."

"But-"

"Granger," he tugged her to face him, his hazel eyes burning into her intensely. "I know you're used to herding your boys, but you're still a child. This is not a _game_.Aurors will be here soon, and for all you know, Potter is still with the Weasleys."

Hermione ground her teeth in frustration. Like she didn't know the danger they were in? She almost lost her life to one of Harry's perilous adventures every bloody year! But now was not the time.

"What do we do?"

"We get you to the portkey," he said firmly.

"What about you?" She asked in concern.

"I can apparate myself," he waved off. "Don't worry about me."

"Okay," she nodded shakily. "Let's go."

Cedric narrowed his eyes on her, noticing her trembling hands. He reached out, twining his hand with hers. "You'll be fine. I promise." He vowed, pulling her up as they climbed out of the ditch and followed the path towards the clearing.

They hurried along, hand in hand. The crowds were thinning out, most of them herded away by groups of Death Eaters. They stopped in their tracks as the tent nearest them burst into flames. They stumbled back from the wave of heat, Cedric protectively pushing Hermione behind him. They kept running, heading for the portkeys. But as they ran, the chanting got closer and closer, echoing through the air. Hermione could no longer tell where it came from.

She froze, jerking Cedric to a halt just as they glimpsed the ominous black hoods of the Death Eaters from a distance.

"Shit..." Cedric muttered, his hand tightening on Hermione's.

As one of them spotted the pair, the figure moved towards them with alarming speed, wand raised threateningly. Cedric pulled Hermione behind one of the charred tents.

"What do we do?" Hermione asked in a panic.

"Shh," Cedric warned, pulling her close as he cast a muffliato on them. She shivered as she felt the magic of a disillusionment charm wash over her like a waterfall.

They waited with bated breaths as the wizard's footsteps neared, the crunch of charred belongings piercing the silent anticipation under his boots. He paused his perusal, laughing cruelly.

"You think I can't sense your magic?" He called out. "Come out, come out. Or don't. It'll only be more fun when I find you."

Hermione tensed, and Cedric's grip on her arms tightened.

"Alright, so here's what's going to happen," he spoke in a hushed, urgent tone, despite the muffliato. "I'm going to go out there and distract him, and you need to make a run for it. The disillusionment charm will hold for a while longer, so just get to the portkey as fast as you can. It's just over that ridge up ahead- in the small nestle of trees."

"I'm not leaving you!" Hermione insisted.

Cedric sighed, his head dropping to hers in exasperation and a tinge of fear. "Look Granger- I'm a seventh year and a pureblood. They likely won't attack me, and even if they do, better me than you."

"I won't leave!"

"_Hermione,_" he gritted his teeth, shaking her by the arms. "I'll be fine, just get yourself _out._"

Without waiting for her affirmation, he pushed her away, towards the abandoned rows of charred tents where she could easily weave her way towards the clearing unnoticed. He took a deep breath, stepping out from around the canvas as he released the charms on himself.

"Well, well, well," the gruff Death Eater observed. "Aren't you a Diggory? _Blood traitors_, the lot of you," he spit out.

"And proud of it," Cedric taunted, keeping his attention occupied.

"Proud, are you? We'll see how you feel after a few rounds at the mercy of _true _power."

A jet of red light burst out of the Death Eater's wand, and Cedric lunged aside to dodge it. He knew he wouldn't be able to block a Cruciatus curse. Especially the well-practiced one being thrown at him.

"_Stupefy_," he yelled, watching as the spell narrowly missed the Death Eater when he deflected it at the last second.

"Such a child," he sneered. "_Crucio_."

The well-placed curse broke through his hasty shield, too powerful. Cedric dropped to his knees, screaming as he writhed from the blinding pain firing through every nerve in his body.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

The sharp pain ended as suddenly as it came, leaving a throbbing in its wake. Cedric opened his eyes to see Hermione running towards him.

"Cedric! Are you alright?"

"I thought I told you to leave," he muttered, struggling to rise to his feet.

"And I thought I told you I wasn't leaving you," she said, helping him up.

"Bloody glad you don't know how to listen, Granger," Cedric smirked weakly.

"You took a Cruciatus for me," Hermione looked at him in awe.

"I'll be fine," he insisted.

They continued towards the portkey, Hermione supporting Cedric as he stumbled every now and then from the after-effects of the Cruciatus. They finally broke through the small shelter of trees where their portkey was supposed to be hidden.

"It's gone," he groaned. "Why hasn't it come back?"

"They probably shut them down," Hermione exhaled sharply, looking at him in fear. "What do we do now?"

Cedric looked at her, torn. "I've never apparated anyone else. And after that Cruciatus..."

They stared at each other, their hair matted to their temples from the heat of the fires, soot covering their clothes as they heaved in one breath after another.

"Then you should apparate yourself out," Hermione gulped. "Get help."

"I won't leave you here," he echoed her words.

"We have no other choice," she whispered, her voice breaking. _It wasn't like she wanted to be trapped here. _

He studied her for a moment before stepping into the circle of her personal space, making her inhale sharply as the heat from his body hit her.

"Trust me?" He held his hand out to her, his velvety voice smooth as his eyes rested on her in a calm resoluteness.

She looked at him for a moment of indecision. She wouldn't have made it this far without him. Slipping her hand into his, she nodded once. "I do."

He gently tugged her into his embrace, his grip on his hand tightening as he prayed to Merlin he didn't splinch them. He turned, both of them disappearing into a vortex. They didn't land smoothly- Cedric lost his footing, and Hermione fell forward, landing on top of the seventh year who rescued her. Cedric groaned, feeling the ache in his body as he hit the ground. Hermione froze, feeling the hard planes of the boy under her.

"We're alive," Hermione exhaled in relief, looking down at him as she held herself up on her elbows. "We're alive!" She laughed.

"More than just a pretty face, you know," he told her teasingly as she scrambled off him with a hint of a blush. Or perhaps she was just winded?

She offered him her hand, helping him off the ground. "Clearly," she smiled. "Though you've got that going for you too."

Cedric raised an eyebrow in surprise. He'd heard of the infamous Hermione Granger- he'd heard the stories and rumors. He hadn't expected her to tease him back. Then again, he hadn't expected her to take down the Death Eater either, despite the stories he'd heard of the young witch's impressive magic.

"Hermione!" Ginny called out from a distance.

There was a buzz of relief as the Weasleys made their way towards the witch. Hermione spun around, looking at the approaching group. She turned back to the seventh year, who she'd only talked to for the first time today in four years.

"Thank you," she whispered gratefully. "For getting me out of there."

"Thanks for coming back for me," he grinned at her. "We saved each other."

Hermione smiled, stepping away from him as the Weasleys approached. "Bye, Cedric."

"I'll see you around," he corrected. "_Hermione._"


	6. Quidditch Save (cormac m) (T)

• **Cormac McLaggen | Hogwarts 6th Year**

* * *

**QUIDDITCH SAVE**

Cormac McLaggen was a proud man. He knew his worth and didn't pretend like he was any less than he was. He knew he was the best Keeper in Gryffindor house, and certainly better than the fumbling Weasley they'd all hailed "King." It took him all of one minute to figure out how he'd been ousted during tryouts and who'd been behind it. After all, there were only so many people out on the Quidditch pitch during the Gryffindor tryouts, and out of all of them, he'd only put his money on one of them to be skilled enough to confound him to such a degree.

He'd been fuming for a week after, but the witch of his ire had been all too oblivious to his occasional intense stares. He thought it was a hoax when the Golden Girl herself asked him to Slughorn's little shindig. It only took him a few seconds thereafter to catch on to the way she stiffened as Weasley passed through the common room with his new witch.

He said yes, anyway.

To his glee, Granger's night had her jumping out of her shoes whenever anyone approached. He knew he'd done an excellent job of laying it on thick, but he had nothing to lose. His sole purpose had been to rile the witch up like she'd inadvertently crawled under his skin the past few weeks. This enigma of a witch who appeared a rule-abiding goody-two-shoes but in reality flaunted every rule when it suited her. The one who was always prepared- for anything. He'd never seen her stutter and flounder as much as she did on their "date" that night. It brought him some sort of ironic joy, even though his witches usually stuttered and floundered in brainless admiration and not an itching desire to run and hide. It had been the most fun he'd had with a witch in months- and they hadn't even done anything unless you counted the single dance she'd allowed him at the party. Who knew it would be so refreshingly exhilarating to drive someone up a wall.

Granger avoided him like the plague after those holidays, and even when they ran into each other, she offered him a curt, impersonal nod before rushing away. It brought a smirk to his lips every time. Revenge had never been so sweet— and he'd barely even done anything.

He got his shot in the end. Karma made the world turn in strange ways.

The Weasley boy was poisoned not too long ago, and the Gryffindor team was down a Keeper right before their big match with Slytherin— their biggest match of the year. Potter had come to him desperately, not having bothered to keep a reserve Keeper on the team.

He agreed, of course. He didn't even give Potter any lip about the foolishness of his past choices.

Now here he was.

Hovering fifty feet in the air as he guarded his hoops, the red and gold uniform whipping around his legs from the strong winds as blurs of red and green whizzed around the Quidditch pitch. In the windy day, he could catch a glimpse of the one and only Golden Girl sitting with her friends in the Gryffindor stands, her curls gone absolutely wild in the wind.

He had run into her this morning at breakfast.

"McLaggen," she tried to pass him with a curt nod.

Unable to help himself, he stepped into her path. She looked up at him in wary surprise, not backing down either. His fingers toyed with the ends of her bright scarlet and gold Gryffindor scarf, and she stiffened, forcing herself not to jerk away.

"Cheering today?" He asked lightly, a grin playing on his lips.

"I always root for Gryffindor at all our games." She said stiffly.

"Not rooting for me like you would your precious Weasley?" He teased in amusement.

Her eyebrows rose in shock before she replaced the surprise with haughty indignation. "Ron's my best friend," she argued. "Besides, how do I know you're not a bad Keeper?"

Hermione grew baffled when a Cheshire smile spread across his lips. "You see, I'd almost believe you, Hermione." He tugged her closer with her scarf until she'd almost ran right into his annoyingly broad chest. He leaned over her, the clean scent of soap of broom polish hitting her seconds before she felt his lips brush across the shell of her ear. "But you of all people know I'm the better Keeper," his voice dropped to a low whisper. "I would've been the one on the team if you hadn't confounded me."

She froze, her eyes widening in shock.

He chuckled, pulling away. Seeing her dumbfounded reaction was satisfaction enough.

"I'll consider forgiving you if you cheer for me," he called out to her as he stepped back towards the doors.

She counted herself lucky the embarrassed flush didn't hit her cheeks until after Cormac had already swiftly exited the Great Hall. What had she been thinking confounding him during official tryouts? If Harry had noticed, how had she not anticipated Cormac would too? And to think she'd had the nerve to ask him to Slughorn's party after doing that to him only to ditch him all night. He must see right through her, she thought with a groan.

**~o~O~o~**

It was well into the game, and Cormac was playing to win just as much as he was playing for the crowds. The score was 120 to 50 in favor of Gryffindor. A bit embarrassing for Slytherin, really. He caught each quaffle headed towards his hoops with practiced ease, falling back into months of training he'd undergone over the summers. The crowds loved him, especially since practically the entire school was willing to root against Slytherin. He threw his teammates the quaffles he caught, winking at the girls as they whizzed past him laughing.

Hermione had to admit, seeing him now with his hair windswept and a competitive glimmer in his eyes, he honestly did look like he belonged up there. The broom was like an extension of him, and he played just as hard within the game as he did with his own teammates. She hated to acknowledge that she'd never seen Gryffindor's spirits so high- not even during Ron's first win.

Across the large pitch, Cormac glanced over to the stands, his eyes seeking out a certain which he knew he should have no desire to see. But when he caught her peering up at him contemplatively with grudging respect, he felt his chest puff in elation. He didn't know why, but seeing Granger's quiet acknowledgment felt more like a victory than any of the cheers ringing through the pitch.

"Harry Potter's caught sight of the snitch!" Creevey boomed through the sound system. "The Slytherin seeker right on his tail!"

Gryffindor was so far ahead, all the other players froze, watching in anticipation as the two Seekers chased the snitch that would determine the winner. Cormac felt himself waver on his broom as a large bludger shot past him, not inches from where he was hovering.

_Strange,_ he thought. The Beaters were all in front of him with their focus on the Seekers. Where had the rouge bludger come from? Following the trajectory of the ball, he noticed it headed straight for the stands.

The warning was tearing out of his lungs before he could stop himself.

"GRANGER!"

The brunette jumped as she heard the panicked cry directed towards her from a distance. Several of her housemates also turned, curious as to why the seventh year hunk would be yelling Hermione Granger's name in the middle of a Quidditch match. But as their gaze focused on the bludger barreling toward them, the fearful cries started radiating out from the stands.

Hermione slipped out her wand, aiming for the rogue bludger.

"Reducto!" Right before it made an impact, her well-placed spell exploded the offending ball into fine grains of particulate that rained down on them.

Her eyes met with Cormac as she released the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She gave him a nod of thanks, but he merely watched her blankly- an intense, disconcerting look in his eyes. She turned her attention back to her housemates, particularly the first years sitting a few rows in front of her, Neville, and their guest Luna.

"We shouldn't risk staying here," she called out to her friends. "Can you guys lead the younger ones into the higher stands? I'll make sure the last of them leave."

Neville and Luna nodded in agreement, ushering the first years away.

The match was still on and would likely continue for a little while longer until one of the Seekers could catch the snitch. She helped the younger ones find their way to the exit. She was just about to leave herself when she saw a young girl curled in on herself on the floor of the stands. Hermione recognized her as one of the muggleborn first years. She must've had quite a fright seeing that bludger hurtling towards them.

"Hi there," she called out softly. "We're all leaving to head to some safer stands, would you join me?"

The young raven-haired girl looked up with wide, fearful eyes. She seemed to be frozen in place.

As Hermione tried to reason with the first-year, Cormac spotted the second bludger hurdling back towards the lower stands from the opposite side of the pitch.

_Where the bloody hell were they coming from?_

"Granger!" He called out in warning again as the bludger shot closer.

But Hermione was preoccupied this time around and didn't hear him over the loud whistle of the wind. His teammates, however, had. And so had the spectators on the higher stands. A collective gasp went across the crowds as they realized the cursed object was headed straight for the Golden Girl.

"Hermione!" She heard Neville yell in panicked fear.

She glanced back at him only to see him gesturing wildly back at the field. She turned to see the bludger headed right for her and her much younger housemate, only about a dozen feet away now. Hermione instinctively stepped in front of the girl curled up on the floor, bracing for impact as those last few seconds stretched into an eternity.

Right as the bludger reached them, a blurred figure passed in front of her, grunting as the bludger finally made contact. The force sent him flying off his broom and into the aisles a few rows down, his broom splintering as it caught on the bench at an awkward angle.

She rushed forward, hardly believing her eyes as they fell upon the unconscious figure of Cormac McLaggen collapsed on the floor.

He'd thrown himself in front of the bludger.

In the middle of a game.

For her?

**~o~O~o~**

Cormac's eyes opened to a familiar room. The memories flooded back to him as the hospital wing's ceiling came into focus.

The bludger.

_Hermione_.

She hadn't heard him the last time. He knew she wouldn't have enough time to react with the bludger already so close. He was pushing forward on his broom before his mind caught up to him, hurtling towards the defenseless witch.

The last thing he remembered was the sickening crunch of the bludger meeting his body.

"You're awake," a soft voice observed.

He glanced at his bedside, hardly able to believe he was indeed awake and not dreaming. "Granger?"

"Do you feel okay?" She asked hesitantly after a moment.

He took a second to watch her while he took inventory of his body. She looked nervous- sitting primly at the edge of her seat while she gnawed on her bottom lip, her curls coming loose from where she'd pinned them away from her face.

"My shoulder hurts like a little shit," he shrugged.

Hermione nodded sadly. "I heard Madam Pomfrey mention it was badly fractured _and _dislocated. She said she won't be able to tell if there's lasting nerve damage until you wake."

Cormac froze. This was more serious than he thought. "Will I play again?"

Hermione's eyes flew to him in righteous reprimand. "Is that seriously what you're concerned about right now?" She scolded. "Honestly, McLaggen, get your priorities straight."

For the first time in their interactions this year, his eyes went truly cold on her as his features hardened.

"Well, considering I've been training to try out for the professional leagues after Hogwarts for the past few summers," he ground out in a quiet, unflinching voice, "I think I'm asking exactly the right questions."

Hermione paled as she immediately shut her mouth. She hadn't realized Quidditch was so important to him. And here she was at his bedside- trying to lecture him when he'd gotten hurt saving her despite her being the reason he hadn't made the team.

"I'm sorry," she backtracked honestly. "I hadn't realized."

"What are you doing here, Granger?" He sighed. "Where are the others? The team?"

Hermione glanced down in uncertainty, playing with the cloak in her lap. She supposed this was why Cormac McLaggen always made her hackles rise. She was used to two types of boys. The kind like Harry and Ron- who she would help and support, and practically mother. Basically, all her male friends in Gryffindor were along that caliber. Then there were the ones which she'd spar with- usually Malfoy and his crowd. The kind that got her flinging the best retorts her wits had to offer. But Cormac was a wrench in her normal. He was self-sufficient and made her feel sheepish for her moral lecturing. He was definitely more than the airhead than she'd first dismissed him as. She didn't know what to do with boys like McLaggen.

"They're in the tower," she told him. "Pomfrey kicked us all out after they caused too much of a ruckus."

"How did you manage to stay?" He raised an eyebrow curiously. "Then again, of course, they would make an exception for the Golden Girl."

"Actually, I snuck back in," Hermione admitted softly, fingering the invisibility cloak Harry had lent her.

"You snuck in?" He asked dumbly, staring at her in baffled surprise.

She looked up at him, nodding once with a hesitant shrug.

"You broke the rules." He said, rather obviously. "For me?"

"You abandoned the posts mid-game to _save me,_" she shrugged self-consciously. "The least I could do was make sure you weren't all alone down here."

He continued to stare at her.

"Thank you, by the way," she rambled to fill the silence. "I really appreciate it. Even more, now that I know what playing means to you."

"My pleasure," he said with a small smile, finally easing out of his stiffened demeanor after her genuine apology. "Did we at least win?"

Hermione nodded with a responding smile. "Harry caught the snitch not long after. They're not mad at you."

"How could they be?" He huffed indelicately. "It was the game or possibly your life. Not much of a choice. Did they find out what went wrong with the bludgers?"

"McGonagall's investigating it."

A brief comfortable silence fell between them.

"I forgive you, you know," he finally spoke up, a teasing grin playing on his lips.

It only took Hermione a moment before understanding filled her eyes. "But I didn't cheer for you," she responded with an amused smile. "I still don't know whether you're the better Keeper," she lied adamantly.

"You still broke the rules for me," he pointed out with a satisfied smirk. "Something tells me the Golden Girl doesn't risk that for just anyone."

She faltered. He was right. Not only did he have her out here breaking the rules for him, which she only ever did in life or death scenarios or occasionally for Harry and Ron, but he was wreaking havoc on every method she had of handling boys.

He was unlike the others in her life.

But... perhaps that wasn't a bad thing?

"Maybe," she acknowledged shiftily, unable to keep a grin off her face. "Perhaps it's just a fluke."

"Not if I can help it, love," he murmured silkily.

The look in his eyes sent heat running down her entire body. Oh boy, she was in trouble. But truly, maybe that's not a bad thing after all.

**~o~O~o~**

**I always thought a well written Cormione would be great! Unfortunately, there are so few fics that explore this pairing. Hopefully, this is the first of a few stories I put out for these two.**


	7. First & Only (harry p) (T)

**• Harry Potter | Battle of Hogwarts & Post-War**

* * *

**FIRST & ONLY **

He knew he'd have to die.

Clearly, it was what he was raised to do.

"I'll go with you," his best friend choked out.

"No," he felt himself saying. "Kill the snake. You need to end this."

He felt Hermione crash into him, grasping onto his shoulders desperately. For a moment- just a brief moment- everything felt okay. His mind flashed back to his very first year- the moment Hermione had engulfed him in her embrace at the end of the year. It had been his very first hug. It seemed only right that she be his very last.

Ron watched the pair sadly, and Harry knew they'd likely end up together after the war. Perhaps it was for the best- he didn't want his two best friends dealing with his loss alone.

He knew he often sided with Ron when the three of them argued, but if this year had taught him anything, it was that Hermione was his closest friend- perhaps even more so than Ron. She'd stayed beyond everyone else. She was the one who refused to let him put her on a safe pedestal. She was the one who made sure he lived past the end of every year.

It was always her.

**~o~O~o~**

"HARRY!"

Her's was the first voice he heard when he tumbled out of Hagrid's arms. Not that he had much time to dwell on it as he ran for his life.

It was time to finish this- once and for all.

**~o~O~o~**

When the dust finally settled, allowing the hopeful and cleansing rays of sunlight back in, all they were left with was loss and pain.

The Weasleys were devastated. After losing Fred, they'd never entirely be the same.

Harry and Hermione watched from the edges, not really knowing how to comfort the inconsolable family. Harry couldn't calm Ginny, nor could Hermione with Ron. The family that had been a pillar of strength for the two their entire childhood came crumpling down, retreating into themselves to heal.

"You're not going with Ron?" Harry asked Hermoine in a voice thick with emotion and unuse.

She shook her head sadly. "I think he needs his family more than anything right now," she whispered, watching the way he had his arm around George's shoulder.

"What about you?" Hermione asked. "Not going after Ginny?"

Harry eyed the way Ginny supported her weeping mother. "No," he gulped. "Not yet."

The Weasleys brokenly took Fred's body back to the Burrow. Almost overcome with the exhaustion of the last few months- hell, the last few years- Harry and Hermione decided to seek out shelter in their old home: Gryffindor Tower.

After all, where else did they have to go? They were both without family and without homes. Who else did they have but each other?

When they entered the dormitories, the large room lined with five beds felt like the haunting replica of a past life. Hermione looked at the big room with a moment of trepidation.

"Come on," Harry said tiredly, leading her to the one bed by the window. "Let's just try and get some rest."

Hermione didn't protest, allowing Harry to pull her into the bed. They lay on opposite sides, the small bed affording little space between them. They stared at each other, merely taking the other in.

They'd made it.

They'd survived.

"I'm so happy you're alive," she whispered disbelievingly. _It had all happened so fast. _Her hand fluttered up to his face, feathering over the hair matted to his forehead.

_"_Thank you," he said meaningfully. "For not leaving."

They watched each other for a few moments of comfortable silence.

"When will you go back to Ron?" he whispered.

"I don't know," Hermione said, torn. She seemed to take the question more deeply than he'd meant it. Or perhaps he had meant it that way. "I don't think I can ever forget him walking out on us," she admitted.

Harry nodded, not needing her to explain. "When will you tell him?"

"Soon," she whispered. "I feel terrible doing it so soon after Fred... but the more I wait, the more complicated it'll get."

Harry hummed in quiet contemplation. He always liked that about Hermione. She was never one to dally, even in her personal life. She did everything with an honesty and certainty he still struggled with.

"Are you excited to finally reunite with Ginny?" She asked curiously.

Harry's green eyes lifted to hers, and it was a long moment before he responded.

"I don't know," he finally whispered. "Everything feels so different now. Even just after a year."

Hermione waited patiently, no judgment in her gaze.

"You know when I said goodbye to you before going into the forest?" He asked suddenly.

She nodded.

"I felt numb after realizing what I had to do. But somehow you made it okay. You always do that for me, 'Mione."

"You _know_ I'd do anything for you," she said sincerely.

"Always?" He asked curiously.

"Always."

Harry studied her carefully, scootching closer minisculely. His eyes drifted down to her lips before finding those familiar caramel orbs again.

"Anything?" His voice broke.

Hermione's eyes widened in understanding, her body going absolutely still. She raised her hand to rest on his cheek gently.

"I love you, Harry," Hermione admitted honestly. "I have since the end of the first year. I don't really know when you stopped being just my best friend and became the person I counted on for everything. I don't think there was ever a defining moment, you know?"

Harry nodded, his hand coming to rest over hers. "You just bled into my life until I could never imagine it without you," he agreed understandingly.

"But," Hermione stuttered with a deep exhale. "We can't do this. It would destroy our friends- you know that."

He did know that he realized with a sinking heart. But for once, he just wanted to be selfish. He'd lived his entire life sacrificing for the greater good. For once, he just wanted to choose for himself. But he knew Hermione would never do that at the expense of others. He might've been born into his inevitable role, but Hermione made a choice to sacrifice for the greater good.

"I'll still love you," he admitted sadly.

"I'll still love you too," she smiled.

**~o~O~o~**

Ron had not taken their breakup well. Harry knew at that moment what a catastrophe it would have been if Hermione were to tell him she was also in love with his best friend.

"Why?" Ron pleaded. "We had that kiss..."

"I'm sorry, Ron. I really am!"

"Is there someone else?" He asked.

"No," she said after a minuscule pause. "I just- I'm always afraid you'll walk away in the middle of a fight. I can't live like that."

"Merlin, Hermione! I apologized for that!"

"I know! And I forgive you, I do. But part of me can't forget it. I just- I can't share myself with you like that, not with those expectations..."

Ron stormed away, too upset to even yell at her like he usually would. When Hermione reentered the kitchen, the Weasleys watched her with disappointment. They didn't blame the girl, but they didn't entirely understand either.

It took months before things reached a stable normal. Hermione would stop by the Burrow once a month, but every visit was tense and awkward.

It wasn't until Ron brought home Parvati Patil that the entire family seemed to relax, letting go of the spilled milk. He'd run into her at Lavender Brown's funeral, and apparently, they'd been meeting more and more regularly ever since. Despite how hotheaded Ron tended to be, Parvati indeed seemed to temper that side of him.

While Hermione and Ron only riled each other up at every turn, Parvati was a soothing balm to Ron's quick temper, and he was the comedic relief to her anxiousness. They were a surprisingly good match.

Hermione was really happy for them. Harry could sense the relief coming from her the day Ron came to dinner with Parvati on his arm.

She could finally stop feeling guilty.

**~o~O~o~**

Harry and Ginny were a bit more complicated.

They stayed together after the battle. Once Hermione made it clear they could never be together, it didn't seem logical to put his life on hold- especially since he craved comfort in those days.

But comfort from Ginny felt a lot more platonic than he'd expected. They both seemed dazed in their relationship. They would cuddle and talk, but neither seemed to feel the desire to take anything further. Her year at Hogwarts under the Carrows had knocked the last remaining innocence out of Ginny, replacing the once light-hearted infatuation she'd had for Harry with a much deeper understanding. But it wasn't quite the same. Harry, for all he tried, could never entirely get Hermione out of his head.

Hermione never once begrudged him those months with Ginny. Granted, she was gone more often than not after her breakup with Ron. But when she did come around, she always had bright smiles for the young pair.

It wasn't until after Ron had moved on that the nagging thought returned to Harry. _What if? _

One day he and Ginny were at Grimmauld watching a movie on the muggle telly Hermione had helped him set up.

"Are you happy, Gin?" Harry asked suddenly.

"I'm content," Ginny replied with a wry smile. "Why? Feeling insecure?"

"Yes," Harry admitted.

Ginny sat up, looking at Harry with her full attention now. "How do you mean?"

"Maybe it's just me, but I don't think it is," Harry began hesitantly. "We're both changed a lot since that year. Can you honestly say your heart is here with me? Completely?"

Ginny froze. _He couldn't know, could he? She'd never told anyone._ "No," she admitted with a deep sigh.

"Me either," Harry whispered. "I barely know who I am these days, much less how to be with someone else."

"So... what? We just break up?" Ginny asked, surprised at the sudden turn.

"I think we're both at a point where we're ready to part ways," Harry said. "Aren't we?"

Ginny sighed with a small, sad smile. "We are."

**~o~O~o~**

It had been two months since Harry had last seen his best friend. Hermione had gone to Australia to find her parents, promising to return with them as soon as she was able. Hermione left a few weeks after Ron officially introduced Parvati to the family, finally feeling okay to leave with the confidence she would come back to the Weasleys' open arms. He'd offered to go with her, but she'd have none of it. She insisted he focus on getting back on his feet and enjoying his time with Ginny.

Little did she know, he and Ginny ended things a little over two weeks into her absence.

A _lot_ had changed in the following few weeks- most of which Harry'd never seen coming. But when Hermione walked into the Burrow on one of their typical Sunday brunches, two months after she'd first left, Harry couldn't help but beam in happiness.

"You're back," he laughed, folding her into his embrace.

"I told you I would come back," she said affectionately.

"Your parents?" He asked.

"Decided to stay in Australia," she shrugged, a hint of sadness bordering her eyes. "That's why I was there so long. I was trying to rebuild those bridges. They said they'll visit for the holidays, though!"

"I'm glad," Harry squeezed her hand, relishing the warmth of her presence.

"Hermione!" Parvati cried, rushing over to engulf the girl in a hug.

Hermione glanced back to Harry in confusion, realizing he had yet to relinquish her hand. He merely smiled in amusement, shrugging aloofly.

Ron came by, pulling her into a warm hug as well, not batting an eyelash at their joined hands.

"Harry," she whispered urgently, trying to extract her hand from his. "What the hell is going on? Where's Ginny?" She was so confused. Harry Potter was holding her hand in front of the entire Weasley family- for much longer than seemed appropriate (even for two best friends). And more bizarrely, no one looked at all fazed.

"Hermione," the excited voice of the young redhead drew their attention.

Hermione's mouth dropped open as she saw Ginny rushing to them with none other than Draco Malfoy on her heels. Ginny hugged her, laughing at the befuddled look on her friend's face.

"I promise we'll talk," she drew away, her eyes swimming in amusement. "But, I think Harry has a bit to fill you in on."

Hermione stared at them all in open-mouthed shock.

"You'll catch flies at this rate, Granger," Malfoy drawled, the usual vicious bite gone from his words.

"Come on," Harry pulled her out the back door. "Let's get you some air."

They'd walked but a few paces away from the house before the slew of questions came rushing out.

"Harry, what in Merlin's name is going on? Why's Malfoy here? With GINNY? How is everyone-"

"Breathe, Hermione," Harry laughed, rubbing her arms soothingly.

She waited for an explanation, watching him expectantly.

"It only took a few weeks after you left to realize what Gin and I had was not sustainable. Apparently, she felt the same. I _was _surprised, however, when she asked if I'd testify for Malfoy at his trial. I mean, I was already planning to speak on behalf of his mother, but I hadn't really considered Malfoy yet."

"Why-" she interrupted softly.

"Apparently, he saved her during the battle," his lips quirked up. "From Greyback, at that."

Hermione blinked owlishly. "So...now they're just together? You're okay with that?"

He smiled affectionately at his childhood best friend. "Hermione, I told you the morning after the final battle what I _really_ wanted. _Who _I wanted."

"The Weasleys-"

"Have accepted it," Harry told her reassuringly. "I talked to them while you were gone. I'm sorry if you didn't want that, and it's fine if that doesn't change anything for you. But-"

"You did all that?" Hermione squeaked. "To be with me? But they're your family..."

"So are you," Harry insisted.

Hermione watched him with wide doe eyes, unable to process the reality of what she'd come back to.

"Will you? Be my family?" Harry asked hoarsely, his hand outstretched.

For a moment, she didn't react, and he feared he'd done the wrong thing. But with a flurry of movement, Hermione was rushing at him, hitting him with the force of one of her consuming hugs.

Like the night of the final battle.

Like his very first hug every- from her.


	8. SILVER KNIGHTS

**《 SILVER KNIGHTS 》**

_...Stories that transcend House rivalries and bring Gryffindor's Golden Princess into the paths of the Slytherins... _


	9. Olive Branch (draco m) (T)

**• Draco Malfoy | Hogwarts 6th Year**

* * *

**OLIVE BRANCH**

She couldn't believe him. She could hardly stand to look at him right now, much less talk to him. How in the world could Harry have used a dark spell on Malfoy? Sure, there was hardly any lost love between them, but _how could he be so bloody reckless. _

Hermione's angry strides led her straight to the hospital wing before her brain even had the time to process. Just as she approached the door, the one Professor who potentially despised her met her in her tracks as he exited the wing.

"Miss Granger," he warned in a deceptively calm voice that had her hackles rising. "I won't have you going in there just to tear into him when your _friend_ already did such a thorough job of it."

"I-" Hermione blanked as Professor Snape looked down at her in disapproval. "I'm not here to hurt him. Or yell at him."

"Oh? Then what could you possibly be doing here," he drawled obnoxiously.

"I just wanted to make sure he's okay," Hermione rushed out.

"Hmm, and you think he wants _you_ at his bedside? My, my, we're a little presumptuous these days, aren't we."

"I never said he wanted me there." She ground her teeth in barely restrained frustration. "But I won't make the mistake of letting him think we believe this is okay."

"We? I only see you here," Snape pointed out with a raised eyebrow.

"One makes all the difference, Professor."

Snape studied her sharply for a moment, his eyes flickering in indecision for a moment. She could only guess why. But he nodded briefly, allowing her to walk by him with a sigh.

"Don't think this erases what Potter has done," Snape warned as she walked away.

Hermione turned her head. "I wouldn't dream of it, Professor. Harry deserves the consequences of his actions. Under no circumstances was what happened today okay."

She nimbly slipped into the wing, not waiting to hear his response. If she had, she'd have seen the rare look of surprise on her Professor's face. She'd have seen the grudging respect he afforded her.

She couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness as she approached his bed. He was the only patient in the wing. His eyes were closed and skin even paler than usual. He looked like a corpse, to be frank. When she neared, he pulled his eyes open at the approach of footsteps. Initially, he thought he was delusional- there was no way Hermione fucking Granger could be by his bedside as he lay useless. Yet as she came to a stand beside his bed, the warm, sweet scent of amber and parchment that seemed to accompany her flooded his senses, warning him that this was very much not a hallucination.

"_Granger_." He hated how weak his voice sounded. He'd meant it to come out with a sneer.

"Malfoy," she said quietly, merely looking at him at a loss.

"Come to gloat?" He asked bitterly. "Don't bother."

"No, I actually came to apologize. For Harry. He _is _sorry, though I doubt he'll say it to your face." Hermione said, her face scrunching in anger at her friend.

"If that's all you're here for, you can see yourself out. I don't need your bloody apologies. It doesn't change a thing, you're just worried about his arse landing in trouble."

"That's not true," she insisted firmly. "I- I wanted to make sure you were alright."

Malfoy stared at her in disbelief for a moment before catching himself. He opened his mouth, ready to spew forth his typical round of vitriol to send the witch scampering to lick her wounds. But he found himself too exhausted to do so. He'd been avoiding her all year for this very reason. With the Dark Lord occupying his home, everything that had seemed mundane and routine all seemed so unnecessary now- taunting Gryffindors, flaunting his status, even riling Granger up- it all lost its appeal.

"Why would you?" He found himself asking the question he was really thinking, rather than the practiced insult meant to make her leave. "You hate me."

Hermione met his eyes, hesitating for a moment. "You- you annoy me, even anger me. But hate is a strong word. I wouldn't wish this even on you, so I must not truly hate you," she admitted.

When Malfoy stared at her for a moment too long, she cleared her throat, looking around at the clinically clean area around him. Where were his friends? His things? No get well chocolates?

"I can owl your housemates if you like," she suggested. "Maybe they can get you some of your things while you reco-"

"NO," he exclaimed, immediately wincing from the exertion.

She stared at him with wide eyes, feeling uneasy at the panic in them.

"I just want rest," he said quickly.

"Where are your friends, Malfoy?" She asked softly.

"Have you seen those buffoons?" He scoffed, trying to divert her. "Like I'd get any rest with them bumbling around here."

"But-"

"What about you, Granger? What do your friends think of you coming down here to check on the enemy?"

Hermione gave him a humorless smile. "You're not my enemy. Besides, they don't know I'm here."

He looked at her quizzically. _She'd actually come here without telling Scarhead and Weasel? They'd lose their shit if they found it. _

"But you're right," she surged ahead with her Gryffindor bravery. "You need your rest, I'm only keeping you from it. I just wanted to make sure you were doing alright, and you know... apologize."

He watched as she backed away from his bed, beginning to ramble.

"I'm glad you're okay, and I hope you feel better soon."

He watched half in amusement and half in confusion as she turned and swiftly left the wing, muttering to herself. That girl really had no inhibitions when it came to doing things she felt she needed to.

Hermione closed the door behind her, puzzled at what happened all while berating herself. What was she thinking, trying to be friendly with Draco bloody Malfoy? Why was it actually working? He wasn't precisely his usual rude self. Hermione shook it off. It was probably the numerous potions he was intoxicated from, she told herself.

Draco watched her leave, freezing when he caught himself smiling. He'd figured she'd only come to yell at him or nag. But this had to have been the most cordial conversation he'd had with her in all their years knowing each other. Now that he had to watch his every move around the other Slytherins, never knowing where a set of watchful eyes waited to report back to the Dark Lord, it felt refreshingly calming to interact with someone when the stakes weren't that high.

Who knew the very same witch who'd driven him up a wall all these years could bring that calm.


	10. WEASLEY CLAN

**《 WEASLEY CLAN 》**

_... She's basically part of the family, isn't she? When the Weasley brothers realize there's far more to Hermione Granger than the know-it-all girl they grew up with..._


	11. Full Circle (bill w) (T)

**• Bill Weasley | Time Travel **

**• SUMMARY: To Bill Weasley, Hermione was always the beautiful older witch who came out of nowhere to help them during the first war. But Hermione Granger never fully settled into her role in the past. Can he convince her to take a chance on the future? Can she keep her realities apart when Bill grows into the very man she remembered him as?**

* * *

**FULL CIRCLE**

Hermione's new nightly ritual of looking through her old memories was abruptly interrupted by a loud banging on her door. The rude disturbance had knocked her straight out of her pensive.

It was a gift from Sirius for her most recent birthday. As much as she and Sirius could drive each other up a wall, moments like that reminded her he paid more attention than she knew. Somehow he'd picked the perfect gift. Right as her beloved friends reached Hogwarts age, he gave her the one thing that would help her revisit those times in her life.

Picking herself up, Hermione rushed over to the door, keeping her wand ready.

But nothing could've prepared her for the sight before her.

"Bill..." She said dumbly.

He stared at her intensely, almost as though he were frustrated. His piercing blue eyes studied her carefully, running over her face scrutinizingly. His dark red tresses hung, framing his sharp features, and Hermione could see the smallest muscle ticking along his jaw. Without responding, the tall redhead pushed past her, storming into her apartment.

"Why are you soaked?" Hermione finally asked after picking her jaw up. "It's not raining."

"Not here, no." He bit out.

"For goodness sake, you'll get sick in those wet clothes," Hermione said worriedly, quickly casting a drying and warming charm on him.

"Wait, why are you here, anyway?" Her eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. "Aren't you supposed to be in Egypt?"

"Is everything alright? Is it your mum and dad? Are your siblings okay?"

Before she could ramble further, Bill chose to cut her off.

"Hermione, why is there a look-alike of you in Hogwarts?"

Hermione froze.

Bill scoffed. "I guess it's true."

Hermione gulped, averting her eyes from his searching gaze. "Why were you at Hogwarts?"

_She certainly didn't remember ever seeing Bill Weasley her first year. In fact, she didn't even know about Bill until their third year and didn't meet him until their fourth year at the World Cup._

Bill laughed hysterically, pulling his long hair back. "That's what you ask me? Really?"

"Why were you at Hogwarts?" She asked again, her voice rising. "I certainly don't remember you being there the first time," she mumbled under her breath.

"First time?" He raised an eyebrow. "Merlin, Hermione. What the bloody hell is this all about?"

"Why were you at Hogwarts?" She repeated again slowly.

"To help create wards for a special package! Dumbledore commissioned me for it!"

Hermione shook her head. Dumbledore was still going to keep the Philosopher's Stone in the castle. "He's barmy, I warned him against bringing that bloody stone into the castle," she mumbled in frustration.

"I didn't say anything about a stone..." Bill realized, looking at her suspiciously. "How do you know about that? It's supposed to be classified."

"Don't worry about it," she waved off.

"Hermione. How did you know?" Bill spoke warningly.

"Look, Dumbledore knows I know. Just leave it alone."

"Fine." He crossed his arms. "Care to explain why there's an eleven-year-old at Hogwarts who looks exactly like you?"

Hermione shrugged. "Must be a coincidence."

"I'm not the gullible child you seem to think I am." He told her, seeming insulted.

"I never said that. Look, I have pretty common features," Hermione defended quickly. "I'm sure there are a thousand girls who look similar to me!"

Bill stepped up to her, staring at her eyes before softly brushing a loose tendril of hair behind her ear. Hermione's breath caught at his proximity as she forced herself to hold still.

"Maybe. But I'd recognize that hair anywhere."

When Hermione tried to jerk back, Bill caught her by her arms.

"I'm not thick, Hermione. You showed up over a decade ago out of nowhere. The only thing the adults told us is you fell out of the bloody sky. You have no family you speak of. You had vital information that miraculously helped us win the war in months when we'd been stuck in a stalemate for years. You took an immediate liking to all the young ones. You seemed like you already knew everyone, even when you'd just gotten here."

Hermione studied him guiltily.

When she'd been thrown back in time, the only people who knew the truth about her past were the Potters, Sirius Black, and Dumbledore. And that was only because there was no other way to convince them to switch secret keepers and move their safe house out of Godric's Hollow.

"How do you even remember that?" She asked hoarsely. "You were so young..."

He sighed, letting her go. "I was old enough to be in Hogwarts, of course, I remember. Besides, I was the only one you didn't treat like you knew them inside out. That sticks."

Hermione winced at the bitterness in his voice.

"It's not like that," Hermione said weakly.

Bill sighed, pacing towards the fireplace. He studied the low flames and burning embers, calming himself.

"Why did you travel back to our time?"

If she weren't caught, Hermione would've beamed in pride. She always knew Bill was incredibly sharp- as all curse breakers tend to be, but he'd pieced together what generations of Order members had failed to. She walked over to stand next to him.

"I actually didn't mean to. But I was in battle when a spell collided with a time turner in the room. That's what sent us back."

"Who else came back?"

"No one else who's still alive," Hermione said in a hard tone. _Her slicing curse had killed Dolohov before they even landed in the past._

"What battle were you fighting?"

Hermione smiled sadly, meeting his gaze. "You've seen me at Hogwarts, Bill. You already know I've known all of you before you officially met me in this time. What do you think?"

"But over ten years in the future?" Bill asked in concern. "Voldemort was still at large?"

Hermione studied the embers. "Not exactly. Not the entire time, at least. It's a bit complicated, but my experiences from my original timeline are how I knew how to stop him the first time around once I was sent back."

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"You were little kids," Hermione said acceptingly, as though she'd thought it through a thousand times. "There was no reason to burden you with my past- a future that would never exist. Besides, they were too young to truly understand anyway."

"I wasn't that young, Hermione," Bill argued.

Hermione laughed joyfully, looking up at him in amusement. "Yes, you really were. It was so startling for me to see the tall, mysterious curse breaker I knew as a little boy running around with a toy broom in his hand."

Bill watched her contemplatively, taking in what she just revealed.

"So, I was a curse breaker in your future too."

Hermione nodded, her laughs quieting down.

"Did anyone know?"

"Dumbledore, of course," Hermione admitted. "There was no other way to make him trust me enough to bring me into the inner circle of the Order. And the Potters and Sirius Black."

"Why them, of all people?"

"They didn't know Pettigrew would betray them in my timeline," Hermione whispered sadly. "Telling them the truth about me was the only way to convince them to switch secret keepers and safe houses before Voldemort got to them."

Bill was quiet for a moment, awed by the strength of this small little witch who changed the very fabric of time.

"My parents?" He asked hesitantly.

Hermione smiled fondly. "They don't know," she admitted. "But they didn't need to. Even though they didn't know who I was to them in the past, they were still some of the best, most welcoming people I knew. They were actually one of the things that kept me sane. Even though I was in a completely different time, I was still surrounded by the people I'd spend my entire childhood with."

"I'm glad you found us again," Bill simply said.

"Me too." Hermione smiled.

Once a brief moment of silence had passed, Hermione couldn't help but ask the question she'd feared the answer to.

"Was she alone?"

When Bill looked at her in confusion, she clarified.

"Young Hermione. Was she alone when you saw her?"

"No, actually, she was chatting away with Harry." Bill laughed. "She's quite the talker, young Hermione."

"Oh, don't remind me," she rolled her eyes. "I was such a know-it-all. But I'm glad... I was worried they wouldn't become friends again."

"Why wouldn't they?"

"Harry was my best friend," Hermione admitted. "Even more so than Ron, I think. But when I think about it, our entire friendship started out of need. Harry always had these crazy adventures because of Voldemort. Most of our years, we were always solving some life-threatening mystery or another, and they needed my brain more than anything."

"I'm sure that's not all they saw in you," Bill told her with certainty.

"No, of course not," Hermione agreed. "That's just how it started. But I didn't know if they'd ever even talk without that influence."

"I think little Hermione will be just fine," Bill assured confidently.

Hermione chuckled, glancing at him. "It's so bizarre hearing you call me that again."

"again?"

"The Bill from my timeline called me that too occasionally." She remembered fondly.

"So we did know each other," Bill surmised curiously. "I was curious... I mean, you always treated me so different from the other kids."

"I didn't mean to," Hermione shrugged sheepishly. "I suppose it was because I never knew you all too well in my timeline."

"I thought you were close with Ron? Then how did you not know me?"

"We knew each other," Hermione clarified. "Just not very closely. You were always just my best friend's big brother."

Bill's amused expression dimmed a bit. "_Just_ your best friend's brother?"

"I mean, you _were_ over a decade older than us," Hermione pointed out. "It's not like you were trying to get all too acquainted with me, either."

Bill shook his head in amusement. "Yet now you're almost a decade older than me."

"I'm not that old," Hermione blanched. "I was still seventeen when I first came here."

"So you're only six years older than me," Bill smirked.

"I suppose," Hermione spoke nonchalantly. She didn't quite like the smug expression on Bill's face.

"What about Charlie?" Bill asked suspiciously. "You were never unsure with him, but he's closer in age to me than the young ones."

"I'd never really met or interacted with Charlie in my time. So it wasn't like I was intimidated by him. Besides, he made it rather hard to keep him at arms width once I'd talked about dragons," Hermione smiled fondly.

While she hadn't known a ton about Charlie, bringing up dragons definitely helped her win over the young child she'd met years ago.

"You think I didn't?" Bill asked her incredulously.

"Sorry?"

"You think I didn't try to get close to you?" Bill asked again, stepping towards her purposefully.

"We've already talked about this-"

"No, not in your timeline when I was older than you, in this one. My entire childhood. You think I didn't try to get your attention numerous times?"

"I-I mean-" Hermione stammered nervously- something she rarely did. "I was close to all the kids, I spent all my free time with you guys!"

Bill laughed sadly, shaking his head before he looked at her imploringly. "Hermione, I followed you around like a puppy for years. There's no way you missed that."

Hermione recoiled as though someone had sprayed her with water. "Bill, I'm sure-"

"No, I'm honest," Bill insisted, stepping even further into her personal bubble. He already knew from her body language she'd had no idea about his starry-eyed crush on her.

"I remember when you first came to our house- you were still a mess. You probably hadn't even gotten the chance to clean up from the battle you were torn out of. I wasn't even supposed to be awake, it was a closed-door order meeting. But I remember thinking you were so awesome for telling Sirius Black off, and that was it for me. Imagine my surprise when I saw you next and discovered you were as beautiful as you were brave."

Hermione blinked up at him owlishly.

"I remember coming back from Hogwarts every year, trying to show you how much I'd been maturing and learning because you were so fascinated by knowledge. But you would just pat me on the shoulder like a child and send me on my way- like one of the kids."

"You _were_ a kid back then," Hermione said quietly.

"I was," Bill agreed reluctantly. "But I always knew I wasn't your favorite. Know why?"

"Bill-"

"You would bring Charlie books on dragons and offer to teach him spells. You always took the time to read to the young ones and play with them. You even spent time making sure Percy knew he mattered! But I don't think I ever earned a spot in your heart."

Bill was breathing heavily by the end of his rant, staring at her with years' worth of pent up frustration and longing. Hermione could only stare back, shell shocked. She'd had no idea he'd been yearning for her attention as a child. Despite Bill being a child-like all her other friends were, she'd never really seen him as a baby that needed to be coddled and protected like the others. Even as a young eleven-year-old, he was shockingly bright and astute, and petulantly independent. She could very easily see the man he'd turn into in the child he had been. So she didn't think he needed her or even wanted her coddling.

"By the time fifth year came around, the girls at Hogwarts started making it very clear that it was nothing wrong with me," Bill scoffed at himself. "So every year as I got older, I would try to forget you in other witches. But you know the worst of it? When I brought my first witch home, all I could think about was whether you'd finally notice. So silly of me to think you'd be jealous over a mere seventeen-year-old."

"_Bill_," Hermione stopped him, catching his hand to get his attention. "Believe me, I never saw you as immature or a mere child. If anything, out of all of you, every time I looked at you, I could see the man you would turn into- the man you _have_ turned into."

She squeezed his hand softly, feeling the rough callouses on his large hands against her softer ones.

"I'm sorry I didn't treat you like the others," she told him earnestly. "I suppose I never knew how to treat you as a child because I didn't really see you that way.

Bill tightened his hold on her hand, gazing at her imploringly. "I haven't been a child for six years, Hermione," he said, his voice strained from emotion. "But you don't treat me any differently."

Hermione looked down, trying to pull her hand away. But Bill held on, not letting her hide from him.

"I don't know what you want me to say," Hermione sighed wearily. "We were never close. I might've lived in this timeline, but in my original one, I know what kind of life you grow into. I never really had any role in your life beyond a family acquaintance, and I don't know how to make myself one now."

Bill's gaze softened on her. He pulled her closer, tapping the underside of her chin with his free hand. She looked up at him, her eyes widening slightly at their close proximity, yet she didn't jerk away like he'd expected her to.

"How about you get to know me?" Bill proposed, a small teasing smile playing on his lips. "Not the one from your past, but the man standing in front of you today?"

Hermione almost smiled, in which he took great joy. But she caught herself.

"I don't think that's a good idea, at least not the way you mean it." Hermione bit her lip regretfully.

"How do you think I mean it," he watched her lips distractedly.

"Like you want this to become more than a friendship," she gulped.

"Enlighten me as to why it's not a good idea," Bill asked, his voice dropping. "I haven't been a child for a while now. Even you admitted, you always saw the adult in me, so I can't imagine you seeing me grow up is too hard to reconcile."

Hermione watched him regretfully, giving his warm hands a parting squeeze before she pulled away.

"You have a whole life ahead of you, Bill," she gave him a forced smile. "New adventures in Egypt for your career, people you'll meet, witches you'll fall in love with..." Fleur flashed through her mind. He'd end up meeting her four years from now and get married to her in seven. "Someone you'll someday marry."

She'd worked so hard to make sure she only changed the timeline to make everyone's lives better. She couldn't just take away the happy and full future she knew he'd have for selfish reasons.

Bill froze at her words. He'd never even considered that he might've been married in her timeline, might've had a family of his own. Yet standing here before her, he couldn't imagine wanting to be with anyone but Hermione. She'd been the sole witch in his thoughts since his childhood. Even when he was with other witches and trying to move on with his life, he always came back to her. Caught off guard as he was, he still couldn't feel any yearning for a potential future he might've had in her timeline. Because the Bill who grew up older than her didn't know Hermione as a child. He was an entirely different person. He wasn't scared of potential futures that might be lost, he was more afraid of losing the one thing that'd been more clear to him than anything else in his life. Hermione.

Hermione took his silence as agreement. Shaking her head in self-reassurance, she tried to walk past him. This was her entire purpose in being sent back. Giving everyone the lives they deserved.

Bill smiled as she walked past him, knowing exactly what was racing through her head.

He caught her by the wrist, pulling her back to face him.

"You've been watching out for us your whole life, Hermione," he smiled fondly. "First, the Potters, then all the kids. Your entire life is centered around them. But they're growing up now; they'll go to Hogwarts and have adventures of their own with little Hermione."

Hermione glanced down._ She knew that, but the reality was still hard to face._

"You're allowed to start living for yourself, you know?" He said softly.

She looked up at him, shocked.

"What do _you_ want?"

"I- I-"

"If you didn't know my future," Bill continued. "If you didn't think I was destined to have this life you think I have set before me, would you want me?"

Hermione stared at him wide-eyed, her jaw slack.

"Would you at least want to get to know me more personally?"

Hermione gave a hesitant nod.

"Then say yes," Bill pleaded, pulling her closer.

"But you _do_ have a future, Bill." Hermione pleaded.

"Hermione," Bill sighed, frustrated. "This is no longer your old timeline. Whatever future you think I'm supposed to have, it doesn't have to be the same anymore. You being here has changed that, whether you wanted it to or not. I know you've haven't felt like you were truly part of our time, that much is clear from how much you're trying to keep control over the happenings of your original timeline. But you have to _let go _and _live._"

Hermione's eyes teared up. _He was right, she hadn't been living for herself._

"What about Egypt? You know my life is here, I can't leave." Hermione's voice broke.

She couldn't believe she was actually considering this madness. But something about what he said just resonated. Since traveling back in time, she never felt like she fit anywhere. She was too old for her friends, and try as she might, she would never be part of their lives the same way again. Yet her peers now: the Potters, Sirius, Remus, the Weasleys- they all felt like mentors to her. She never felt like she fit with them the way she did with her own friends. Yet Bill- the man standing before her was a miracle of an exception. He was still younger than her in this time, but not so young that he couldn't understand her.

"Who says I can't come back?" Bill defended.

"Why would you want to?" Hermione blanched. "Your entire career is there!"

"_Hermione_, I can still find something to do in England. Believe me, there's no shortage in need of curse breakers anywhere."

"That's a big decision to make for something so new," Hermione argued. The idea of him leaving Egypt for her was terrifying. That would irrevocably change the timeline. She wasn't sure she was prepared for that.

He sighed. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes patiently. Gently, he cupped the side of her neck, bringing their heads together. "You're right, this _is _new for you. But you have to understand, this isn't new for me." Bill rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes and savoring the feel of her. "I've always been able to see you as someone special. I know it scares you, but I'm sure enough of it to move back home. But I can't take this step alone, you need to take it with me."

Hermione jerked her head back, not that she got very far with Bill's hands entwined in her hair.

"See, that's too big of a step to take all at once, we don't even know we would work in real life!"

"Then say yes to a date," Bill said, throwing his hands up. He'd take anything at this point.

"Just a date?" Hermione asked dubiously.

"Just a date."

"From Egypt?"

"No, I'm moving back either way," Bill said confidently.

"But-"

"That's not on you," Bill told her reassuringly. "It doesn't mean we have to work out, and it doesn't mean you owe me anything. It's a choice I'm making because I think it'll make me happier."

"But-"

"Just one date," Bill whispered. "Be brave and give this a chance. Give yourself the chance to start living again."

Hermione stared at him, the brimming tears finally spilling over. She nodded wordlessly, unable to get the words out. But he got the message, sweeping her into a tender hug.

"You won't regret this," he spoke against her hair.

"I can't promise I'll be able to change easily," she mumbled against his chest. "I've spent years being hyperaware of how everything will change the future."

"That's what life is about-" he chuckled. "Taking a chance on something and seeing how it goes."

Hermione nodded, gazing up at him.

"You're right."

"Of course I am," Bill smirked. "You might be brilliant, but I'll have you know, I have my moments-"

Hermione rose up on her toes, pressing her lips to his with a smile. Bill froze in surprise, but as soon as he recovered, his hands spooled into her hair, tilting her head back as he deepened the kiss. When they pulled apart, he gazed at her through hooded eyes.

"Yepp, we're going to be just fine."

**~o~o~o~**

**Funnily enough, this story was inspired by someone who commented on Promise to the Past on how 11-year-old little Bill Weasley became Hermione's knight in shining armor out of all the other children.**

**While that just wasn't in the cards for Promise to the Past, I just couldn't help but give that pairing its own little moment to shine. Hope ya'll like it ^-^**

**~Mischief Managed**


	12. Bring Me Back to Life (fred w) (T)

**• Fred Weasley | Battle of Hogwarts**

* * *

**BRING ME BACK TO LIFE**

"No – no – no!" someone was shouting. "No! Fred! No!"

Harry helped Hermione up with a hand, and they stumbled over to where the three Weasley brothers were on the floor. Ron was screaming at his too still bother while Percy merely sat in complete shock.

"No," Hermione mumbled, pushing past Ron. "He can't be dead. He can't."

Ron fell back in shock as Hermione plowed past them, shooting spells at Fred faster than he could see. With each spell that failed to get the jokester to open his eyes, the more frantic Hermione became.

_Not him, _Hermione thought in panic. _If Fred dies, part of George would die right along with him. Then who would teach them all to laugh again once this whole bloody war was over? _

Nothing worked. Bone repairing charms in his skull. Healing charms on the incisions on his skin. None of it brought him back from whatever brink he seemed to be teetering on. Hermione paused for a moment, a fleeting thought coming to her. Before she could even think it through, she was already murmuring the incantation. The boys around her froze as a bright gold light encompassed the two.

If Hermione had let herself think it through, she'd have realized what a potentially disastrous idea this was. Because the spell she'd just repeated could only be found in one book that she knew of. The same book that contained the chapters on Horcruxes.

With a heaping gasp, Fred jerked up from his supine position, eyes wide in shock.

"Fred!" Ron cried in relief.

Fred's brothers rushed around him, unable to believe he was truly alive. Only Harry, who stood behind Hermione, could see as Hermione swayed unstably.

For a brief moment she'd felt like she was on clouds, feeling what must have been Fred's magic spark to life. But within the next moment, she could feel her energy draining dangerously quickly as her magic reached out to support his. She felt her head become dizzy.

Perhaps she should sit down.

Oh... she already was.

The last thing she heard was a familiar voice screaming her name as darkness closed around the edges of her vision.

**~o~O~o~**

Hermione's eyes fluttered open, meeting the welcoming rays of warm sunlight. Had the night already broke? Was the battle over?

"Hermione," someone breathed in relief beside her.

"Harry?" She croaked out.

"It's me, you're okay. You'll be okay. Pomfrey said you've only been recovering for the last few hours. Though for a while we weren't sure whether you'd make it through the night." He choked on the last sentence.

"What happened?" She whispered.

"Oh not much," he laughed somewhat hysterically. "The world only fell apart and went up in flames without you. Voldemort killed me but it turns out he only killed his last Horcrux- so I came back to life. Neville beheaded that disgusting serpent. And then I killed him...finally."

Hermione's mouth dropped open. "So... we won?"

"We won," Harry nodded with a hint of a smile.

"Oh thank Merlin." She fell back on the cot she'd been laid to rest on.

"What happened, Hermione?" Harry asked her, watching her carefully. "You healed Fred and then all of a sudden it seemed like you were dying."

Hermione froze, looking over to him with a rare bout of fear in her eyes.

"Oh Harry..."

"It can't be that bad," he assured her. "You're both alive, and we just won the war."

"I... I used an old binding spell. One I'd read about in the same book as the passages on Horcruxes."

Harry stilled. "You what?"

"It was the only thing I could think of," she exclaimed. "Nothing else was working."

"So you... what? Bound the two of you together?"

Hermoine winced. When he put it like that, it practically sounded like slavery.

"Not exactly, I don't think. It has to be performed both ways for us to be fully bound. My doing it allowed his magical core to pull from mine to heal itself. That's why nothing else I tried worked- he was too close to death for superficial healing to do anything for him."

Harry nodded before looking her flat in the eye. "We both know every spell in that book is illegal."

"I know," Hermione gulped.

"Since you and Fred both seem to be doing fine now, I propose we keep this between the two of us," he said urgently. "I know you did what you had to, but we don't know if everyone else would see it that way."

"You would do that for me?" She asked squeakily.

Harry looked at her incredulously before exhaling with a laugh. "Blimey, Hermione- of course, I would! You stuck with me through Godric's Hollow, the least I can do is keep your secret. Besides, you saved his life."

"Where are they all anyway?" Hermione asked, scanning the Great Hall that seemed strangely absent of the easily spottable redheaded family.

Harry paused.

"Well... not long after you died Percy split off from the rest of us to help Remus and Tonks. We were trying to get your body to the Great Hall. And... well... he saved them... but he died in their stead."

"Oh no!" Hermione's hands flew to her mouth. The Weasleys must be devastated.

"They've taken him back to the burrow. Ron and Ginny went with them, they figured their family needed them most right now."

"Of course... and Remus and Tonks?"

"Returned to Teddy as soon as they could," Harry assured.

"Why are _you_ still here?" Hermione asked Harry curiously. He could've just left with the Weasleys. Merlin knew he must be tired.

"Are you barmy? You were here lying unconscious, I didn't even know when you would wake! Where else would I be?"

Hermione smiled gratefully, squeezing his hand in thanks. It was more reassuring than Harry would ever know to realize she hadn't been left completely alone- that even in this great wizarding world where she had no blood ties, she still had family.

**~o~O~o~**

The first day she and Harry saw the Weasleys again had been nearly a week later. Harry and Hermione had gone back to Grimmauld place to rest and recover. They slept for nearly 24 hours in one go. Eventually, their bodies caught up to them, and they realized they had people to check in on.

The Weasleys were all gathered for breakfast when the Weasley matriarch opened the door.

"Oh dears, thank heavens you're alright!" She pulled them both into a tender hug before ushering them towards the rest of the family.

Hermione caught a glimpse of the twins sitting together at the table and a wave of relief hit her. This was how it was meant to be. One of them caught sight of her first, rising swiftly from the table and rushing at her. Before she'd had time to do more than take a single step back in surprise, he'd swept her into his arms and lifted her off the floor in a fierce hug.

Her feet found the ground seconds before he pulled back, and Hermione could see the tears glistening in George's eyes.

"I heard you saved him when no one else knew what to do," he choked out in the most serious tone she'd ever heard from him. "Thank you. For giving me my brother back."

Hermione squeezed his hand in reassurance before a nearly identical voice called out from behind him.

"Oi! Are you done there? Or can I not thank my savior myself?"

Hermione looked around George to see Fred smiling at them. He walked around his brother and bent down to wrap her in a grateful embrace.

"Thanks, Hermione. Good thing the Brightest Witch of Her Age was with me when I almost died," he joked. "No one I'd rather call my rescuer!"

Hermione laughed. "Why I'm honored."

She counted herself lucky that no one bothered to ask how exactly she'd healed him. Ron seemed too glad that it was all over to even think to ask. And Percy, who'd been the only other witness and the only one likely to question how she'd managed her miraculous feat, had already passed.

But as she sat on the end of the table, observing in quiet content as the family she'd grown up with in the wizarding world all ate and talked, she couldn't help but feel a distant tug on her magic.

~o~O~o~

She lasted nearly a month before she felled compelled to seek him out again.

But it that time she'd kept herself busy and gotten just about everything in her life sorted out. Her first move had been to find her parents only to have them turn her away with distrust in their eyes and betrayed hurt in their hearts. So she'd come back and immediately set about getting her wizarding life in order. She applied to take her NEWTS as soon as possible. She started an apprenticeship with Madam Pomfrey and within 2 weeks had an offer from St. Mungos in her hands.

It wasn't until she paused for a breath of air that she realized how empty she felt. She wanted to write it off as an unfortunate consequence of everything following the war, but her magic kept reminding her of the annoying truth.

What could it hurt to visit them? She was close enough to their family to do that.

"Hermione!" George had exclaimed in joy when he spotted her drifting through the aisles of their shop.

"Hi George," she smiled.

"Did you say 'Hermione'?" An identical voice echoed from the back.

Fred peeped his head out from his private office to see the familiar witch in their shop. For some reason he couldn't quite place, he felt instantly elated.

"Hi Fred," she greeted softly.

"What brings you around?" He asked with a grin. "Couldn't be that _the Hermione Granger_ actually wants to purchase a prank from us?"

"I was just in the area," she chuckled. "You two wouldn't be interested in grabbing some lunch, would you?"

George seemed surprised for a split moment before a nodded. "We'd love-"

Right as he was about to finish his sentence, the miniature dragon at the door roared, alerting them to a new guest.

"Hi boys! It's me!" A feminine voice called out. "I brought food! Figured you two would be too lost in your potions to even remember the hour," she spoke absentmindedly as she tried to retrieve her wand from the bag of takeout she was carrying.

"Alicia," George greeted in amusement.

She finally looked up, her hair an adorable mess from the wind outside.

"Oh," she blinked owlishly. "Hi, Hermione! So sorry, I've been a right mess today."

"An endearing mess," Fred smirked.

Hermione felt her heart plummet as the two exchanged glimmering glances in the way only two special people could. The nails were only secured on the coffin when Alicia made her way over to Fred, giving him a soft kiss in greeting.

Fred pulled back from his girlfriend in confusion as he felt a distinct piercing sensation. It felt sharp, and it hurt. It was painful. Yet as he tried to center himself, he could recognize nothing was wrong with him.

"Urm..." Hermione backed away, trying to think of the least awkward way to extract herself.

"Oh yeah, do you mind if Hermione joins us for lunch?" George asked suddenly.

"Oh no," Hermione insisted. "We can take a rain check, I still have a few errands to run anyway."

"But-" George looked at her in confusion, caught off guard by her begging gaze.

"Nonsense!" Fred called to them. "Hermione, you must stay! I still haven't even properly thanked you!"

He'd began clearing their counter of the heavy potions equipment and broken glass they had yet to clear. The interior of the shop was still a bit torn apart as George and he had mainly focused on creating stocks of their products before they decided to reopen.

"Another time, I promise," Hermione insisted, already almost out the door.

"Let me at least walk you out." George followed her in concern.

He caught ahold of the door, holding it open for Hermione. A loud, pained grunt caught both their attention, and their gazes flew to the couple within the shop. In his haste to clear the counter, Fred had accidentally caught his hand on a shard of glass, creating a nasty gash in his hand.

"Fred!" George called out in concern.

His twin took out his wand shakily, trying to focus on a spell to stop his bleeding. Before George could rush back to them, the cut was disappearing before their eyes. To the shock of both twins and Alicia, the wound disappeared into a tiny sliver until his flesh knitted itself back together.

"What the hell?" Fred murmured.

A small, barely perceptible whimper drew George's attention back to Hermione. To his alarm, she was now clutching a bleeding hand to herself.

"Hermione," he whispered with fear and shock in his eyes.

She looked up to him, quickly backing out of the store with tears in her eyes.

It only took George a moment for the pieces of the puzzle to fall into place.

"You guys have lunch together," He called out to his brother and his girlfriend. "I'm going to join Hermione!"

Without waiting for a reply, he was already rushing out the door.

Fred stared after them in dumbfounded surprise. He was shocked his wound healed so easily with such little focus on his part. He'd barely even thought the healing incantation he knew before it was disappearing as though it were never there. When George called out that he was going to lunch with Hermione, he couldn't help but feel disappointed. He hadn't seen Hermione in nearly a month, and as much as he liked Alicia, he'd rather been looking forward to a lunch with the witch who'd miraculously saved him.

Hermione was rushing away, clutching her bleeding palm close. _Shit. Now George knew, which means Fred would find out. Shit shit shit. _

"Hermione!" She heard a familiar voice call urgently.

She fully intended to keep walking until she could slip into the nearby alley to apparate home. She almost made it too, but George caught hold of her arm, pulling her to a halt.

"Dear Merlin," he muttered, taking her bleeding hand as he tried to stop the bleeding.

They stood together at the entrance of the rarely used alley, George patiently healing her hand while she kept her gaze resolutely on her hand and off him.

"Hermione," George urged quietly, brushing his fingers over her now healed palm. "What exactly did you do to save my brother?"

Hermione sighed, finally looking up at him with guilty eyes.

They went around to the Leakey Cauldron, which was almost empty at this time. She explained quietly how everything that night happened, her voice growing more choked as she tried to explain to George how every other spell she'd tried was useless.

"That's why you'd passed out after healing Fred," George finally said. "Your body absorbed his injuries. It's a miracle you woke up."

She looked up in surprise, her fidgeting hands going still around her mug of butterbeer.

"You're not mad?"

"Are you crazy?" He asked her. "You saved his life- nearly at the risk of your own!"

"With dark magic!" She whispered sternly. The truth of it still scared her sometimes.

"Actually, I think it's more blood magic than dark perse..." George thought aloud. "But from what you said, it sounds like he needs to complete whatever bond you used in return."

"No."

Hermione," George tried to reason with the stubborn witch.

"George, no."

"Why not?"

"He's already with Alicia. Besides, it's not even necessary to complete the bond. It's best to just leave it."

"Leave it? Hermione, if you leave it you'll absorb all of his injuries for the rest of his life! Even if it kills you!"

"Well it's a good thing the war is over," Hermione pointed out.

"Hermione!"

"George!" She retorted in kind.

"He wouldn't leave you like this," George insisted quietly. "He and Alicia have only been together for a few months, and that was mostly because they were pushed together when this whole war came to head."

"Whatever the reason," Hermione excused. "They _are_ together. I don't need him to complete the bond. You won't tell him, will you?"

George stared at her incredulously.

"Promise," she pleaded.

"I can't do that, 'Mione," he whispered. "Surely the Brightest Witch of Her Age can see why this bond is so dangerous incomplete?"

"I don't want a forced bond," Hermione choked out. "I'd honestly rather die. Now promise."

"I promise... to let you tell him yourself," George sighed. "But if this shit happens again and you end up hurt because of this, Fred _will _hear about it."

Hermione pursed her lips but nodded. She knew there was no talking one of the twins out of something once they were decided- they were more stubborn than she was.

**~o~O~o~**

**This was initially going to be a longer multi-chapter fic, but I already have a lot of ongoing projects I should be focusing on. I know this is incomplete- it's because this plot isn't suited to be finished in a one-shot. Still, I wanted to get this out there (in case I pick it up for a multi-chapter one day)!**

**Also - the title was inspired by the classic Evanescence song! Who else is old enough to remember it?**


	13. Part of the Family (weasleys) (T)

**• Marriage Law  
• Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Charlie Weasley**

* * *

**PART OF THE FAMILY **

It was a seemingly ordinary day when Dumbledore summoned them all together. They were the core of the Order- the most trusted inner circle. While the first wizarding war only had two Weasleys in the Order, the homely couple's kids had since grown into a robust and driven family that had proven their place within the Order time and time again.

But they all seemed surprised to be summoned so close to the holidays- the kids were due back from Hogwarts in a few days.

"Bill, good to see you," a new redhead exclaimed, pulling the eldest Weasley into a gruff embrace.

"Charlie! What are you doing back?" Bill asked in surprise. Last he'd heard, his brother was still shackled up with his dragons in Romania.

"Dumbledore called me back- must be an important meeting!"

"It must," Bill murmured, slightly disturbed. The atmosphere of wizarding London was getting darker and darker by the day. What happened that caused Dumbledore to summon his brother from all the way across the continent?

Charlie laughed joyously when he managed to catch even the twins by surprise. The two had closed up their shop early now that the back-to-school rush was over, curious as to what this sudden meeting could be about.

As members began filing in one by one, they all noticed Kingsley, Tonks, and even Arthur joining their group with disturbing expressions.

"Does someone want to tell us what's going on?" Fred finally asked, breaking the growing unease.

Before anyone could stutter a response, the fireplace in Grimmauld Place flamed to life as the very head of their organization stepped out regally.

"Good, you're all here," Dumbledore greeted in an uncharacteristically severe manner. Flanking him was Professor McGonagall, sporting an equally concerned expression. Before any of them could even bother asking, the usually mellow headmaster dove into the crux of it.

"There's been new legislation in motion in the ministry," he announced. "It's been very secretive, but we believe it'll be passed as soon as the end of the week."

"What is it?" Bill asked curiously.

"It's a marriage law," Dumbledore intoned gravely. "For muggleborns over the age of 17."

There was a tense pause while the entire room seemed to hold its breath. Only a second later, protests broke out throughout the room in indignation.

"Is that allowed?" Bill recoiled.

"How is this possible?" Molly exclaimed heatedly.

"For _only _muggleborns?" Fred asked.

"Guess we know who's behind it," George finished for him.

"Wait," Charlie asked. "Is there anyone in the Order that'll be affected?"

Molly's eyes widened as she sighed in relief. "No! The children all have one more year before they come of age!"

Tonks winced, earning a stern look from Moody.

McGonagall cleared her throat, her voice ringing through the room as she said, "We do actually- probably the most important of them all. Miss Granger turned 17 a few weeks ago."

"Nonsense!" Molly exclaimed. "They're in their sixth year- they just started! She was born the same year as Ron and Harry!"

McGonagall glanced at Dumbledore before turning back to the room with a deep sigh. "Hermione Granger spent her entire third year time traveling to make sure she could take all the classes she wanted. Because of all that time she spent reliving her own life, she's a year older than all her classmates."

The entire room studied the stern professor in disbelief. While that sounded _exactly_ like something the Brightest Witch of Her Age would do, it still seemed a bit far fetched.

"Merlin, she could time travel, and she used it to go back and attend more classes?" Fred murmured incredulously.

"That's rather anti-climactic," George agreed wryly.

"But if she time-traveled, no one would know but her and those she told," Charlie pointed out.

"Under normal circumstances, yes," Dumbledore said regretfully. "But as our Aurors have informed us, the underage trace on Hermione has already disappeared. So for all intents and purposes, she is a legal adult. And she will be forced to comply with the law."

"What are our options?" Molly asked firmly. "Surely, we can't make the girl marry at 17!"

Dumbledore gave her a regretful look that had the stomach of just about everyone in the room sinking.

"The only other option would be to pull her out of school and hide her away until the war ends and the regime in the Ministry changes- and I have no certainty when that might be. Not to mention, that would make her a fugitive, making her an even bigger target than she already is." Dumbledore told them. "Believe me, I've thought through countless options. I think our best scenario is to just ensure she marries someone she'll remain safe with."

"So someone in the Order," Tonks picked up immediately.

"Precisely," Dumbledore exhaled.

"Perhaps Ron?" Fred suggested. "He always had a thing for her- not that he'd ever admit it."

"It can't be Ronald," McGonagall told them wearily. "He's not of age."

"What's the purpose of this bloody thing?" Molly burst out in an uncharacteristic bout of foul language. "Why only muggleborns? Surely the ministry hasn't sunk so deep yet that they can find a way to justify this?"

"They're playin' it like it'll help eliminate blood supremacy," Moody grumbled angrily. "The muggleborns are only allowed to marry someone of a different bloodline. Scrimgeour is scrambling to try and prevent the war."

"But he's only making it easier for muggleborns to fall into the hands of Death Eaters!" Bill exclaimed.

"Exactly," Dumbledore interrupted. "Which is precisely what we need to prevent. _Especially,_ Miss Granger- she's vital to this war. ."

There was a pregnant pause as they all looked around the room at each other. They'd all known Hermione was a bright witch, but of course, she'd be invaluable to the Order. Who else had helped keep the Chosen One alive all these years?

Finally, Fred spoke up, all traces of humor gone from his voice. "One of us needs to marry Hermione, don't we?"

"Yes," Dumbledore said defeatedly, though he was surprised by the calmness of the youngest Order members- the ones likely to take this mission.

"We figured it'd only be worse if we made a choice for you all, especially given how unfair everything must seem now. So we thought it best to ask you all and see who's available and who's willing."

"So basically any of my boys, _but _Ron," Molly grumbled. She'd always thought those two would get together in the end, but she supposed she should be grateful since Hermione will become part of the family any which way.

Despite how disappointed she'd been in the twins when they'd left school, even Molly had to admit their business was thriving. They were both more than able to care for a family already, which meant both of them qualified. Her older boys had already been independent for years, and Merlin knew she'd give nearly anything to have Charlie come back home. But he was a lot older than Hermione, though not obscenely so. Still, he was the one brother Hermione hadn't really gotten to know, so she doubted the girl would want Charlie.

"Or Percy," Arthur mumbled in a trance. Percy was still firmly estranged from their family.

"That would likely be best, as they're closest to her in age," McGonagall said practically.

"I'm sorry, I can't," Bill gulped, drawing the surprised gazes of everyone in the room. He sighed, feeling a twinge of guilt. "I'd been waiting to announce this, but I'm already seeing someone, and it's a bit serious."

"Who?" Molly demanded.

"It's not important right now," he insisted, desperately hoping he wouldn't have to real that _now_ and face the music when his mother detonated at the news of the french Veela he'd fallen for. "Besides, I'm the eldest of all the brothers, and I doubt she'd want to be with me."

"Well, I'm only a year younger than you!" Charlie exclaimed.

"You've also been hopelessly single your entire life," Bill pointed out.

"That's not true!" He bristled.

"You know what I mean," Bill rolled his eyes. "You're not actually committed to anyone."

Charlie sighed, shrugging. He couldn't argue with that- dragons had basically been his whole life. He wasn't interested enough in anyone to take away from that.

"So that just leaves Charlie and us?" George asked, wincing internally.

"Would any of you three be willing?" Dumbledore asked them, watching them a bit too intensely for their liking.

The three brothers glanced at each other. Fred could see the reluctance in Charlie's gaze. The free-spirited Weasley always expected to return for the war and fight alongside his family- but he'd never expected to get a wife along the way. He'd heard about this Hermione witch from sparse letters from his siblings and mother over the years. He didn't think she'd want to leave everything and just fly off to Romania once all this was over. Fred and George knew as much about their older brother. And as much as they were fond of Hermione Granger, they didn't particularly want to marry her either. Hermione detested their pranks and jokes. Wizarding marriages were permanent- there would be no separating after the war. It might be okay now, but what about in ten years when the twins were still running their business and playing their pranks? They would drive Hermione up a wall, and she would eventually drain their joy out of pranking.

The three brothers could see the truth of their realities in each others' gaze.

"Perhaps we should ask Hermione?" Bill asked, sensing the discomfort among his brothers. "I doubt she'd appreciate us making choices for her."

"She'll be here," Dumbledore said calmly. "But after we discern if anyone feels as though they could not do this."

The Weasley brothers communicated silently before Charlie spoke up gruffly. "This isn't ideal, but obviously none of us would turn our back on her. I think it is best if the witch makes the choice herself."

George and Fred glanced at each other, sharing a barely noticeable nod. If Hermione married one of them, they would both ultimately deal with the consequences. "Agreed," they both mumbled.

With a deep sigh, McGonagall left by Floo to retrieve her prized student. When the professor led the young witch into Grimmauld Place, she seemed surprised at the sight of them. Her curious and inquisitive gaze gave it away.

_She didn't know yet. _

They all watched painfully as Dumbledore and McGonagall explained this new law, Hermione growing paler and paler with every passing second. Fred was internally counting the seconds until her outburst and impassioned protests. George waited for her to recommend Ron or ask if there was any possible solution. Charlie merely observed, not knowing what to expect from this stranger.

To all their surprise, Hermione sighed, a deep weary exhale as she rubbed her hand over her forehead.

"What happens if I don't comply? I am muggleborn, after all. Could I just go back to the muggle world?"

The entire room froze.

"Would you want that?" Dumbledore raised an eyebrow delicately.

Hermione stared at the old professor intensely for a minute. He could see the turmoil in the poor girl's eyes. He already knew Harry had shared his knowledge about the Horcruxes with her, so she knew the obstacles her friends would have to face in the coming war.

"No," Hermione groaned. "I guess I can't really do that."

"Good," Moody said gruffly. "Because they wouldn't let you anyway- it'd be straight to Azkaban for ya."

"So, who am I supposed to marry?" Hermione exclaimed. "They have to be of the opposite bloodline? _And _of age?"

"Well, we have three willing Order members, who would be your safest options," McGonagall told her warmly, gesturing to the three Weasleys who'd taken a step forward.

Hermione's eyes swept over the twins in surprise before coming to a stop on Charlie with a blink.

"Hi there," he grinned weakly. "I'm-"

"Charlie Weasley," she gathered quickly, drawing a bemused smile from him. "And all _three _of you are willing?" She asked dubiously.

They nodded once, like a line of soldiers.

"You don't even know me," she said softly, looking at Charlie.

"I know you're important to the Order and important to my family," he said firmly. "If marrying you will keep you from the hands of a Death Eater, I'd willingly do it any day."

Hermione caught her lower lip between her teeth, assessing the three Weasleys in suspicion. While Charlie's words were chivalrous, his tense posture seemed anything but- like a soldier given an order.

She turned to the twins, who stood alongside their brother in an equally severe manner- no jokes to crack, no teasing, no smirks or smiles. She realized with a sinking feeling that they were probably the only ones eligible to marry her in the first place. Clearly, none of them liked her enough to volunteer, so they were going to play fate and let her choose. If they'd had any preference in marrying her, wouldn't one of the twins have volunteered already? Rather than making her choose between them and the older brother she'd never met?

"I don't... really know what to do," she said hesitantly, her eyes falling back on the twins. "I mean, obviously, I know you two better- I've been in school with you for ages."

Charlie watched her curiously. It seemed like she would pick one of the twins after all. Good- it was for the best.

Fred snorted, the sound bizarrely devoid of humor. "Come on, 'Mione, you couldn't stand us in school."

"I did not!" She denied softly, feeling hurt they could think that.

"You certainly didn't like us," George pointed out with a wry smile. "You spent all last year yelling at us about our products."

Hermione fell silent as she assessed the twins. Their usual easy-going humor was gone, and they both seemed reserved and accepting. But not happy or any discernable emotion, really. They really must not want to marry her if they were letting her pick between the two of them. She tried to keep the frown off her face; she knew they were never awfully close, but when it comes to marriage to her, it seemed like they were all lined up at a shooting range playing a dangerous game of Russian roulette to see who would take the fall.

"I didn't disapprove of your products," she told them finally. "I just didn't like you testing them on first years."

Fred and George froze at the smallness of her voice. Never had they heard Hermione Granger as quiet as she was now. They'd expected anger, frustration, and a demanding witch. Not the uncertain one before them.

"It's not a big deal," Fred assured her quickly. "Bit trivial if we think about it now, right?" He offered her a small, reassuring smile- even though it felt forced.

Hermione offered a small smile of her own, though she could detect the apprehension in Fred's comfort. She turned back to Professor Dumbledore before voicing a hesitant question.

"What exactly are the requirements of this law?"

"To get married using the traditional wizarding vows," Dumbledore told her.

"Nothing else?" She asked them.

"Well, Scrimmengeour initially wanted a clause about kids," Tonks spoke up reluctantly, drawing a horrified look from everyone in the room. "But even he seemed to realize that would cause too much of a backlash, so they've just kept it to the magically and legally binding vows."

"And it's not like those Death Eaters actually want to have a real marriage with the muggleborns, they just want them under their control," Moody supplied frankly.

Hermione gulped, nodding vacantly, seemingly lost in thought. She turned back to the three brothers suddenly. "Do any of you want kids eventually?"

They all froze at her question, none of them reacting.

"Come on," she rolled her eyes at them. "Aren't the magical binding vows permanent? 'Till death do us part? I have a hard time believing none of you have thought about this- even hypothetically."

"Eventually, I guess," George shrugged.

"Once we found the right witch," Fred finished.

Hermione nodded. "So you want the whole deal? Family? Happily ever after?"

George and Fred shifted under her gaze, not knowing where she was going with this. They looked at each other, seeing the truth of the answer in each other's eyes.

"Yeah," they admitted simultaneously, shrugging.

Hermione's eyes softened. "That sounds lovely..." She turned to the one remaining brother. "What about you, Charlie?"

He raised an eyebrow before answering reluctantly. "I never really saw myself getting married, much less having children. I'm kind of married to my job. My happily ever after is to continue working with my dragons," he told her meaningfully.

She nodded thoughtfully, her brows furrowing ever so slightly. She turned back to Dumbledore, and their eyes connected for a good minute. The others couldn't discern what answers she sought from his wise gaze. But the headmaster could see her turmoil and knew she was only wondering the right path to take.

"What about after the war? You know, if everything goes the way we want?" She turned back to them, the anxiousness in her gaze becoming clearer. "What are all your long term plans?"

"I'd be going back to Romania," Charlie told her softly. She bit her lip, nodding acceptingly.

"You know us," George chuckled shortly. "We have the shop, and I'm sure with time we'll expand and build. But we'll be here."

"Right..." Hermione whispered more to herself than anything. She finally looked up, a resolved clarity settling into her gaze. "Well, I suppose Charlie would be my best option."

The jaws of all three Weasley brothers' jaws dropped simultaneously. That was what she gathered from all their responses? That _Charlie_\- the brother who didn't want a wife, or kids, or to ever leave Romania- would be the ideal choice for Hermione Granger? Merlin, he must have horrible luck. Nearly the entire room shared in their collective shock, watching the witch in surprise.

"I- I really would prefer to go back to Romania after the war," he reminded her.

"I won't stop you," she shook her head with a small shrug.

"What?" He appeared lost.

As did the rest of the room.

"There are no requirements on the marriage, correct?" She asked the Aurors again. "Just that the ministry oversees the vows. We wouldn't have to live together. You could go back to your own life after this all ends."

"But we'd be married," he told her slowly as if she were missing the point.

"You said you never wanted a wife or kids anyway," she watched him in askance. He nodded. "That'll basically be what it'll be like. I'll carry my life, and you'll be free to go on your own way."

"B-but- don't you want a family?" George asked.

Hermione turned back to him, a look of longing in her gaze. "I don't know," she said softly. "I never really thought about it. I guess I always assumed I would, but I don't really need it. Besides, I'll be marrying into the Weasleys, I'll have the biggest family out of anyone I know!"

"That's not the same," Charlie pointed out sternly. "What about kids?"'

Hermione shrugged. She'd wondered about that as well. But with everything escalating in this war, she didn't even know if she'd make it out of this alive, much less healthy enough to have kids. She remembered fifth year when she was cursed by Dolohov. It took her all summer to recover, and even then, she only just regained her regular cycles a month or two ago. It'd be a miracle if she made it the rest of the war unscathed. And given Harry's proclivity to find trouble, she highly doubted that'd be the case.

"I don't _need _them. And I'd never really thought about it, so it's not as though I'm attached to the idea."

"I don't understand," Bill spoke up, seeing how shell-shocked his siblings seemed. "If there's a possibility you might want a family, why not choose the twins?"

Hermione grimaced, looking to the twins guiltily. "I wouldn't do that to you," she told them.

"Do what?" They asked baffled.

"If I pick one of you," she sighed, "Then you have to watch as the other grows to find someone he truly loves and have a family and a happily ever after. And I know you two wouldn't be happy with me- not as you would with someone you truly loved," she admitted. "You deserve the chance to find the witch you'd choose to spend the rest of your lives with- not be forced into this. And then have to watch your twin live the life you want because I happen to choose you and not him? That'd be awful."

"Hermione," they both said sadly.

They'd known this witch for the last six years, but never would they have seen this coming. Little did they know, the only thing swirling through Hermione's mind was whether she'd even live to the end of the war with Horcruxes being a real threat and one of the biggest targets on her back.

"We wouldn't be miserable with you," George told her.

"We just don't know you like that," Fred finished.

"Sure, but forced marriages rarely end happily," Hermione smiled sadly. "Charlie doesn't want a wife or family so we can get married and live our separate lives, so functionally, he isn't married."

"But what about what you want?" Charlie asked her, his electric blue eyes studying her in concern. He wouldn't shirk his duties as a husband if he were the one she truly chose.

"I'd be alive," Hermione said shortly. "And you'd keep me out of the hands of Death Eaters. That's all I need."

The entire room watched their interaction with tense silence. Molly was trembling with tears streaming down her face. She wanted Hermione to be part of the family, but not like this. Not at the cost of her own future.

"Is that your final decision Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes-"

"Actually, could you give us a minute," Charlie announced. He reached out, his hand quickly grasping her smaller one before he led her away to the kitchens towards the back of the house. He closed the door behind them, warding it with silencing spells.

Hermione watched him calmly, waiting for him to speak.

"I know what I said I wanted, but I perceive any vows I take very seriously. If you want kids and a family," Charlie sighed, running his hand through his hair tiredly. "I wouldn't deny you that."

"I know you wouldn't," Hermione whispered sheepishly. "But I don't want that out of a sense of obligation. I don't even think I'd want a family if I didn't have the right partner. What would we do? Raise them from two countries across the continent?"

"Then why choose me? You know Fred and George will be here."

"Because neither of them can like me- not like that."

"But-"

"No, _listen_. They've known me for years as their little brother's best friend. And more recently, they just see me as someone who spoils their fun or demeans their work- though that's never what I intended," she pointed out firmly. "Worst of all, I can't stand the thought of any bitterness growing between them if one of them ends up with a life the other wants. I can't live with that- especially when I intend to live here."

"And you're just fine with your husband living all the way in Romania?" He asked incredulously. "For the rest of your life? This war won't last forever." _What kind of witch was she?_

Hermione watched him conflictedly. "Do you want the truth?"

"Well, if we're going to be married, yes, I think the truth would be helpful," he crossed his arms dryly.

Hermione looked down at her shoes before meeting his eyes bravely.

"I'm Harry Potter's muggleborn best friend. I've been following him headfirst into trouble my entire life- and that's not going to change, especially not until this war ends. There's already a huge target on my back, and there's a lot to do before we can end this war for good. If I'm entirely honest, right now I'm not thinking about how it'll be to live separate from a spouse after we were forced to marry. I'm thinking about how to keep Harry alive through this war, and how to keep myself alive."

"Are you in love with Potter?" He asked curiously.

"No! He's like... family. It's not like that."

"That's all fine," Charlie sighed, running his hand through his shoulder-length hair wearily. "But the end of the war will come eventually, and we'll to face our future when it does, love."

"You're still not getting it," Hermione insisted, frustrated. "I might not be alive by the end of the war! Or I might not physically be able to have children. There's no point thinking about what-ifs until we get there."

Charlie went deadly still. "What is that supposed to mean? What do you mean you might not be alive or able to have kids?"

This witch was a mere slip of a girl, barely of age. What could possibly happen to her that would render her unable to have children or even live?

Hermione exhaled, closing her eyes.

"Hermione," he grasped her upper arms, shaking her urgently. "Answer me- what do you mean."

She opened her eyes, meeting his tiredly. "I've been fighting this war since I was 11. And I've been hurt by our tasks at least every other year. I was petrified by a basilisk second year! I got hate mail and threats in the fourth year! I got cursed by a death eater in the fifth year and was bed-ridden for months!"

Charlie's eyes darkened, and he felt protective rage soar up inside him. She was barely 17! And she'd already gone through all that? Dear Merlin, who allowed that to happen?

"I don't like it," she told him firmly. "But I'm prepared for the possibility and inevitability that I'll get hurt if I stand with Harry."

Charlie opened his mouth to retort, feeling angrier and angrier for her by the second.

"But that doesn't change my choice," she emphasized. "I have to stand by him and finish this. That's why I'm asking to hold off on our plans for the future until we're both sure we have one. And if we do make it out of this perfectly fine, don't worry. I meant it- I won't hold you here. You can return to Romania and live your life. I've always found plenty to occupy my time, and I'm sure I can continue to do so."

Charlie watched her assessingly, his sharp blue eyes looking for any weaknesses in her explanation.

"Besides," she rambled with a shrug. "I don't think fidelity is a required vow in the traditional wizarding ones, so if we plan this right, at the end of the war, you can continue living your life as if you were effectively single. Granted, you couldn't marry or have children with anyone else, but..." Hermione looked up at him, finally catching her breath. "It doesn't seem like that was something you ever wanted."

"And you'd be alright with that?" Charlie asked her. He had his fair share of experience- after all, he was nearly a decade older than her. "Knowing you had a husband somewhere in the world sharing himself with other women? While you could never pursue a true marriage or family of your own?"

She met his knowing gaze with a gulp. His iridescent eyes were far too probing for her liking.

"I'll be alive and free," she repeated stoically, almost trying to convince herself at this point. "I can learn to live with the rest."

"What about what you want?" Charlie insisted.

"This is the best compromise I can think of!" Hermione exclaimed harshly. "I'd rather this than make someone else miserable for the rest of their life because I can't give them what they wanted!"

"That's why you chose me?" He asked softly, feeling his heart melt and break all at the same time. "Because at least you can give me what I want? Even at the expense of what you want?"

"I'd hope we can at least grow to respect each other as partners?" She asked, hopefully. "I mean... you'd obviously return for breaks and holidays to see your family. I wouldn't want it to be awkward between us."

"Of course we can," he insisted sternly.

"So you'll do it?" She asked, hopefully. "You'll marry me?"

"Pretty young witch like you?" He teased, a grin finally stealing his lips. "People will say I'm the lucky one."

"Oh, thank Merlin," she exclaimed in relief. She extended a hand sheepishly. "I suppose it's nice to meet you? Bit crazy considering this is the first time we've actually talked."

He chuckled, forgoing her hand to pull her into a friendly hug. "Don't worry, we'll figure it out. My entire family adores you- there has to be something there to be liked."

"Thanks," she pulled back, feeling more reassured than she did when Dumbledore first announced this hellish law.

Charlie grasped onto her hands, squeezing gently to catch her attention. She could feel the roughness of his skin contrast hers, his years of experience doing manual labor engrained on his body.

"By the way, husband of convenience or not, I will be making sure my wife sees it through to the end of the war _alive_ and _healthy_."

Hermione merely smiled indulgently, knowing the Weasleys were a loyal bunch. She had no way of knowing the already brewing firey protectiveness the suave dragon keeper felt for her. Charlie Weasleys did not take vows lightly, nor did he make them easily. But when he did, Merlin help whoever kept him from them. His single-minded determination and focus were one of the many things that made him great with dragons. And he'd admit, the young witch had piqued his curiosity. He'd protect her for his family's sake. But he couldn't help but want to know the brave witch who could so easily brush aside her own desires for what she knew had to be done.

Hermione may have thought she was picking the least involved husband, but she had no idea what she signed herself up for.

Charlie Weasley did everything fiercely- whether it be his passion for dragons or his protectiveness for his family. He might not have loved anyone enough to marry them, but now that he'd have a wife, he would certainly protect them with the same fierceness as he did everything else.


	14. The Wife that Got Away (charlie w) (M)

**• Pt. II to 'Part of the Family'**  
**• Charlie Weasley | Post-War**  
**_• Rated M for explicit sexual content. Read at your own discretion. _**

**̶̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ・ ༓ ・ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶̶**

**THE WIFE THAT GOT AWAY**

Everything about Charlie's wedding was unconventional- from the proposal to the ceremony, right down to the bride. The proposal came in the dooming form of a ministry owl, informing the young Miss Granger of her necessity to marry within a month. She got the owl in the middle of their winter holidays, meaning all of her friends were there to witness her condemnation. The ceremony was prepared quickly and was a relatively intimate gathering. They'd discussed in the Order meeting a few days prior to the official post that they'd submit a certificate and marry Hermione and Charlie right away to prevent any complications from Death Eaters who might try to get their hands on her. As for the bride, she was resolved and composed through the whole affair, not once flinching or wavering from the daunting fate awaiting both of them.

His little brother threw a hissy fit when he learned the wizard marrying Hermione was none other than his own roguish brother. Charlie remembered the twins mentioning Ron had a soft spot for the witch, but his red-faced anger seemed more like possessiveness over his childhood crush than true devastation over the loss of a love. He was dating someone else anyway, so he couldn't bring himself to feel overly guilty. Harry did an admirable job reigning in their friend, and that was the first time Charlie met the famous Boy Who Lived in a personal capacity. Hermione never flinched.

The Order rushed the wedding so Hermione would be married before the end of the holidays. His mother helped prepare a cozy wedding in the fields behind the Burrow, transforming the place into an enchanted winter garden. Hermione never flinched.

They spoke the ancient vows softly but surely, warm brown eyes meeting sharp blue. She never flinched.

His sister did him the favor of keeping him updated once they returned to school. Hermione's marriage was the talk of the school. She was one of a handful of muggleborns who were old enough to fall prey to the new law. Hermione never flinched.

It was the middle of the summer after they married. Hermione appeared on the doorstep to his flat in London, looking up at him with tired eyes. It had been a long year. Dumbledore's death marked an unmistakable shift for the worse, and it had definitely taken a toll. She carried nothing save a small purple reticule sitting along her hip.

"Fred and George told me your address," Hermione said quietly.

He let her in, probing her about what happened. The only answer he received was that she had to send her parents away. She settled into his spare bedroom, and for the most part, kept out of his way. He was baffled. He'd thought she'd need comfort initially. After three weeks, he wondered whether she wanted his company. But she sat at the table day in and day out, her head buried in piles of books as she scratched away at a piece of parchment with her quill.

He'd go on regular missions for the Order. Since he had no official job in the country, his tasks were always the more covert ones. Sometimes he'd return with cuts and injuries or bruises. Those were the only times Hermione looked up from her research, pulling herself up long enough to take care of him.

"Thank you," he mumbled to her.

"It's good for me to practice," she waved off absentmindedly.

_Practice for what? _He'd wondered.

But Hermione never flinched.

Retrieving Harry had been a dangerous mission, and not without its cost. They lost Moody that day, one of their most brilliant strategists. Hermione's resolve only seemed to strengthen. Charlie could remember his last moment of peace before all hell broke loose. Bill's wedding was a small beacon of hope in the dark era. He'd walked up to his wife, offering his hand wordlessly for a dance. Her lips quirked in a small smile before she accepted. When she attempted to keep the formal distance between them for the waltz, he cinched his arm around her waist, pulling her close. She tensed for a moment before she sighed, relaxing into his strong embrace. Charlie's years of physical training with the dragons was not without its perks. He was well built, layers of hard and sinewy muscles as a result of his years of wrangling with dragons. And unlike his youngest brother, he was not a child just past the brink of adulthood; he was a man. Hermione, for one, took the time to savor the moment- Charlie's larger form making her feel safe, safer than she probably had any right to feel.

But then all hell broke loose. Hermione never flinched.

Charlie didn't know why he was surprised when he spotted his witch taking off with his brother and Potter. She'd warned him that she would stand by them. When the Death Eaters broke through their wards, his gaze immediately searched for the witch he'd sworn to protect only to find her grabbing hold of her friends and disapparating.

Part of him felt furious. That anger only seemed to build when they never returned. How could she not trust him? So he waited. He did his job. He went on missions, rescued families, and helped the Order. The day he received Bill's Patronus made his blood run cold.

"Where's Hermione?" Charlie demanded, striding into Shell Cottage as though he owned the place.

"Upstairs," Bill said, moving to stop his brother. "Stop, Charlie! Stop!"

"She's my wife!" He roared.

"Fleur's trying to heal her now," Bill raised his hands in surrender. "But she needs space. She'll call us when she's finished."

Charlie turned his eyes on the two boys who she'd run off with. He had half a mind to go off on them, but their devastated expressions told him all he needed to know.

"What happened?" He asked in an unbending tone.

"We were captured," Ron gulped. "And they took us to Malfoy Manor. B-Bellatrix- she locked us up and interrogated Hermione. We could hear her screams echoing all the way through the dungeons," his brother winced pitifully.

"How long?" Charlie went still.

"Almost twenty minutes," Potter filled in tonelessly. The boy was still in shock.

Charlie's eyes widened in horror. _Was her mind still even intact? _

At that opportune moment, Fleur made her way downstairs.

"I've done all I can," she said in a small, helpless voice. "She's barely conscious, but she'll be asleep soon from the draughts I gave her. You can see her now, but don't crowd her."

"I'll go," Charlie said firmly. No one argued.

Ron and Harry were too ashamed. Hermione always seemed to carry all the weight, and they'd been foolish enough to speak the taboo name and get themselves caught. They'd failed her in the worst possible way.

Hermione's eyes fluttered open when Charlie took her ice-cold hand in his.

"Charlie?" She asked hoarsely.

"It's me, love," He whispered more gently than he believed he was capable. "Just rest. I promise I'll be here when you wake."

And wake she did. But she didn't want to talk about her interrogation- not one bit. The only thing she found worth mentioning was how crazed Bellatrix was that they had the sword that was meant to be in her vault. And so once again, the famously reckless trio began their scheming.

"No," Charlie argued. "Absolutely not! Hermione, you're barely recovered! You're not going, at least not without me."

She assessed him cooly. "We have to break into Gringotts, Charlie. We can't bring you, we already have too many people. Harry's going to be under his invisibility cloak as is, and you won't fit under there with him and Griphook."

"It's a bloody suicidal plan, to begin with!" He roared. "We'll find another way."

"We don't have time for another way!" She argued hotly, her ire finally rising to the surface. Usually, she'd be first in line to lecture Harry about his dangerous plans, but they were running out of time and only had so many moves left until Voldemort had them cornered. They needed to get into that vault before Bellatrix had the time to go back herself and check for whatever else she feared might've been stolen.

"You're just kids," Charlie said frustratedly. "You nearly died a few days ago!"

Hermione stiffened, her nose flaring as her usually warm eyes frosted over. "We've been fighting this battle since we were eleven! Yet, no one seemed overly concerned when we kept being thrown into these situations year after year! We were kids _then_. We haven't been kids for a long while now." Hermione finished pensively.

"But-"

"Don't do this, Charlie," she pleaded, her weariness finally seeping into her resolve. "I have to finish this- we're the _only_ ones who know how to finish this. Standing between them and me now is like me making you choose to leave your dragons. Just don't ask it of me."

Charlie finally relented, knowing his pleas were hopeless either way. She'd do what she wanted regardless of his input- that witch had a head all of her own. Arguing would only create a rift between them. She saw the defeat in his gaze and finally sighed in relief. She offered him a small, thankful smile. Her breath was stolen from her when Charlie reached out, jerking her forward until he nearly collided with him. She could feel the warmth radiating from him like a furnace- just like one of his dragons.

"Promise me you'll be careful," he whispered, his breath ghosting across her face.

"I always am."

She saw something indiscernible flicker through his piercing gaze seconds before he was on her. She gasped when he brought his mouth down on hers, demanding she kept her promise. His lips were soft, but he wielded them with an unyielding force. He took her breath away until she was drowning in his smokey scent, clutching on to his broad shoulders to steady herself.

He drew back slightly, his breath colliding with her in soft pants. "I'm holding you to that."

**̶̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ・ ༓ ・ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶̶**

When the sun finally rose the morning after the Battle of Hogwarts, they'd faced too many losses. Charlie was grateful he was there because he'd barely managed to save Fred from a collapsing wall. But many of the deaths hit him hard. They lost Tonks, one of his closest friends from Hogwarts, as well as her husband, Lupin. But he counted himself lucky because he hadn't lost Hermione despite all the targets on her back.

Not that he saw much of her after the battle; she retreated into Potter's place at Grimmauld, only coming out for the funerals. When he finally went and sought her out, she seemed surprised he was still in town. He tried to ask where they were supposed to go from there. She stared at him blankly, letting him know he was free to return to his life in Romania as she would be remaining here to help rebuild.

For a moment, he wanted to ask her to tell him to stay.

But the resolved look in her eyes stopped him. He truly did miss his dragons and craved to return to them after all the pressure from the war. Surely he'd done his part? His calling was the majestic animals he'd sworn to protect- not government or politics or war. He could stay longer, but what would that really accomplish in the end? He knew he'd eventually return to his dragons anyway.

So he left.

The first year after the war, he leaped back into his duties at the reserve with a single-minded focus. He didn't have time for anything else- not pubs, not friends, not even other witches. He left everything back in England for the dragons, including his bloody wife, which he could honestly admit still made him feel crummy at points.

It wasn't until the second year after the war that his siblings started slipping casual updates about Hermione into their letters to him. It was an unspoken rule between him and his wife that they only write to each other for essential matters or emergencies. The only times he received letters from Hermione were when she told him the marriage law was repealed, for all the good it did them, and when she congratulated him for getting promoted to Head Dragon Keeper. According to Fred and George, she opened her own book shop. Despite the choice of tame profession, it allowed her to pursue all her other side projects, including her numerous best-selling books about the war, the history of blood-based tensions in wizarding London, and the historical and legislative context of magical creatures and their rights. Apparently, she was a high-demand consultant for the Ministry and other large institutions. Ginny dropped mention numerous times that what little free time Hermione had left was spent prompting her newly befriended Slytherins into investing their fortunes into war-time reparations. His baby sister's hints that Hermione may have been dating again forced him back to his own reality.

The third year after the war, Charlie realized he had to continue living his life. So he jumped back into socialization with a fierceness. Every day he gave a hundred and ten percent on the reserve, and every time he went out with his co-workers and friends, he found a new witch in his bed. But never the same one for more than a handful of encounters; he wouldn't give himself a chance to date- not when he knew nothing could come of it. While before the war, this very lifestyle was his dream, the routine quickly lost its glamour.

The fourth year after the war, Ginny wrote to him, letting him know Hermione had taken in Teddy Lupin. Andromeda had fallen ill after the loss of her entire family and finally passed after a couple of painful years. While the Malfoys had flipped their views and reconciled with Andromeda after Lucius's life-sentence, Teddy's godfather, Harry, still didn't want the boy to be raised in the world of pureblood traditions. But he was rather busy as an Auror, and Ginny traveled too often for her Quidditch career for the couple to have a child just yet. Hermione gladly stepped in, grateful for the flexibility in her own work schedule. Charlie started noticing how all his friends and co-workers began settling down themselves, starting their own families as they worked on the reserve. He'd never really wanted a family, but for the first time in his life, the dragons just didn't seem to be much comfort as he lay alone at night. Nor did the occasional witch who he'd just send packing by morning.

Nearly five years passed before he got one shattering letter from Ginny. Hermione was marrying again- Malfoy at that. She'd apparently gotten closer to the git when she took Teddy in, accomodating Malfoy so he could know his cousin. Ginny told him they were taking muggle vows, which wouldn't interfere with her magical ones. By some miracle, Malfoy didn't care. The letter turned to ash in his hands before Charlie could even begin to get himself under control, his magic incinerating the offending paper. Clearly, he'd stayed away from his family for too long.

_Yes, his family. _

Clearly, his witch forgot she was already taken, though he could forgive that since he'd let her go. But he was done being an idiot. It only took him 48 hours before the arrangements were made, and leadership within the reserve was transferred. He knew he was making the right choice when he got to his portkey, ready to leave with his entire life packed into just one trunk. Maybe he didn't have as much tying him down here as he thought.

It was a Sunday, so he apparated straight to the Burrow, knowing his parents would be hosting their infamous weekly brunch.

"Charlie," Molly cried in surprised excitement as he stormed into the garden.

Ginny's eyes flew to her older brother, and she spit out her mouthful of juice in surprise. "Charlie," she whispered weakly.

"Where's Hermione?" He asked urgently, not seeing her among the families gathered in the garden.

"She must still be at her house," Harry said lightly. "Teddy's not easy to get up on the weekends. I think Draco said he was picking her up this morning, anyway."

Charlie's eyes flashed dangerously. "Where's her home?"

"Why?" Harry asked curiously. "She'll likely be here in a few minutes anyway. As long as Draco doesn't hold her up again," he rolled his eyes.

Ginny winced, closing her eyes at her husband's poor choice of words.

"I don't need a reason to see my bloody wife, Potter. Where is her house?"

"It's 103 Nightingale Way," Molly told him, confused. "What's the matter, Charlie?"

But the tall wizard disapparated away without a word, leaving his trunk there.

"What was that about?" Harry asked in concern.

"I may have done something..." Ginny admitted guiltily. "But how was I supposed to know he'd just show up? I mean, the stubborn idiot never even wrote me back, and it's only been two days."

"Ginny..." Harry said warningly. "What did you do?"

"I might've told Charlie Hermione's going to marry Draco," Ginny mumbled quietly.

Harry's eyes widened. "How would that even be possible? She's already married!"

"I told him they were taking muggle vows."

"Malfoy? Muggle vows?" Ron snorted, joining them with a plate of food. "He might've changed a lot, but no one in their right mind would believe that."

"Apparently, our idiot of a brother did," Ginny shrugged.

"Why?" Harry asked her in surprise. "Hermione hasn't even dated since she got married! Why would you tell Charlie she was remarrying?"

"Because she's lonely," Ginny flared with annoyance. "You two might be too dense to notice it, but don't you see the way she looks at us when we're together or Ron's with Lavender? She might not say it, but she's always wanted a partner."

"So? We could've just invited Charlie back," Ron shrugged.

"Charlie's too stubborn for his own good," Ginny argued. "He didn't even say anything when I kept hinting Hermione was dating-"

"Even though she wasn't," Harry pointed out.

"Not the point," she glared at her husband. "I thought something a bit more drastic would finally make him ask about her. It's not like I expected him to show up two days later, did I?"

"Oh god," Harry groaned. "Should we go after him? He might murder Malfoy. Did you see the look on his face?"

"Like Hermione'd let him," Ron snorted. "I feel sorry for Charlie if he tries."

"Oh Merlin," Harry paled. "Hermione's going to murder Charlie. I'd rather not arrest my best friend," he glared at Ginny.

"They'll be fine," Ginny rolled her eyes. "I had a hunch Hermione's secretly holding out for him, though she's never admitted as much. Judging by how Charlie got here all the way from Romania in two days, I'm guessing he returns the sentiment. It's a long time coming, anyway."

"Maybe Charlie will turn Malfoy into a ferret again," Ron said wistfully. "I'd love to see that."

"Ron," both Potters groaned, rolling their eyes.

"What?" He shrugged. "You know you secretly agree, don't try to deny it. It _would_ be funny."

**̶̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ・ ༓ ・ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶̶**

Charlie expected to land outside her front door since he'd never been in her home, but surprisingly her wards allowed him straight into the living room.

"Merlin, Harry, you're so impatient," he heard the dulcet tones of the witch he hadn't seen in years. "I told you I'd be running a little late."

Hermione came down the stairs, her hands fidgeting to fasten the clasp on one earring. She stopped abruptly halfway into the room, realizing it was not Harry in her home.

"Charlie..."

The wizard couldn't find his tongue for a moment, blown away by the woman Hermione'd grown into. She wore a light, peachy wrap-dress that accentuated all her curves. Her hair was much longer now, falling around her shoulders and down her torso in loose waves.

"Hermione," he replied, his voice gruff with unspoken admiration and his anger momentarily forgotten.

"What are you-"

Their peaceful moment was shattered when another pair of footsteps could be heard coming down the steps.

"Ready, Granger?" The voice called down before he came upon them. "We're already late as is."

Charlie stiffened as Malfoy came into view, glaring at the blonde.

"Get out," he growled at him.

Hermione's eyes widened. "Excuse me-" she sputtered.

"Me?" Malfoy smirked, looking between Hermione and the redhead who must be her long lost husband. "I was invited here."

"Consider yourself uninvited," Charlie said dangerously. "Permanently."

"Charlie Weasley," Hermione bristled in a rising voice. "How dare you try an uninvite my guests in my own house."

Charlie's eyes flew to Hermione's, narrowing predatorily. "Since you decided to try and break our vows."

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed in confusion moments before a quick pair of footsteps bound down the stairs. Teddy flew into the back of Malfoy's legs, clutching onto the fabric of his trousers as he peeked at Charlie.

"'Mione, who's that?" He asked curiously.

Hermione sighed, calming herself down. It wouldn't do to lose her head in front of Teddy. "An old friend, sweetheart. He's the older brother of your aunt Ginny."

"An old friend?" Charlie seethed, taking a sudden step closer to Hermione.

Seeing the unrelenting fire in Charlie's gaze, she knew their conversation would not be pretty. "Draco, would you go ahead and take Teddy to the Burrow? We'll be along shortly."

Malfoy nodded after a brief moment of hesitance. He had a feeling he'd only make things worse by being there. But when he reached out to grab Teddy, the young toddler ran ahead to Hermione, clutching her skirt protectively.

"Why can't we go together, 'Mione?" He asked, looking at Charlie suspiciously, sensing the tension in the air.

Hermione crouched down, smiling at her ward reassuringly. "It's alright, love. Charlie and I haven't seen each other in ages, so we have some stuff to talk about. I promise I'll be there soon, okay?"

Charlie felt his heart clench as he saw Hermione speak softly to Teddy. When Malfoy finally disapparated with Teddy, Hermione turned to her husband warily.

"Old friend? Really?" Charlie asked wryly, much less on edge now that Malfoy was gone.

"What do you expect?" Hermione asked sternly. "Teddy's too young to understand the dynamics of our marriage, and it's unnecessary to explain since you'll just leave in a few days."

He stepped closer until he was within a few feet of her, smiling in satisfaction. "I won't just be leaving in a few days."

"Well, I'm sure Molly will be happy to hear you're visiting for longer since it's been years since they last saw you," Hermione shrugged.

Charlie didn't bother correcting her as he remembered her new partner. "What are you playing at with Malfoy?" He demanded.

"I beg your pardon?" Her mouth dropped. "What do you mean, what am I _playing _at? You're the one who had the audacity to try and kick him out. After showing up out bloody nowhere, might I add."

"I know we agreed to live independent lives," Charlie frowned. "But marriage vows aren't to be taken lightly, Hermione."

"I know that," Hermione insisted with a frown. _She'd never forgotten her vows- not even for a day. It was why she'd never seriously dated anyone despite her desire to find a partner._

Hermione tried dating casually before she'd adopted Teddy, but the handful of experiences left her feeling unfulfilled because she knew it could never go anywhere. She wasn't someone who could separate physical intimacy from emotions. Not to mention, she'd roll over after a night with someone and feel dirty for betraying her marriage even though they'd purposely left out fidelity for this very reason. Once she took responsibility for Teddy, she gave up on her romantic life and just tried to focus on raising him. If she couldn't have a partner, at the very least, she could give herself the family she'd always wanted. Honestly, Harry and Ginny being busy with their careers was a blessing in disguise for her. She didn't even realize how much she craved familial bonds until she and Teddy bonded.

"Do you?" His eyes blazed down at her. "Because I certainly wouldn't call trying to override them as respectful."

Hermione's frown deepened. "What in the world are you on about?"

"I mean, really, Hermione. I get it if you're sleeping with him; we did agree we could live our lives freely. But you're actually trying to marry him? He'll need his own heir eventually. You know you can't give him that."

Hermione froze. _Sleep with him? Who, Malfoy? Marry him? In what world? _

"Honestly, why didn't you even tell me you'd met someone you liked that much? Not that'd it'd make a difference either way, but at least-"

"_Charlie,_" Hermione stopped him. "What in the world are you talking about? I'm not marrying Malfoy- I'm not even sleeping with him!"

Charlie stiffened, his eyes closing in embarrassment. "I'm going to murder Ginny," he muttered under his breath.

Hermione couldn't help the amused smile that snuck up on her face. What in the world had the youngest Weasley said to her brother?

"Is that why you're here?" Hermione inquired. "Because you thought I was going to run away with Malfoy?"

"Maybe," he mumbled.

"That's all it took to finally get you to visit?" Hermione teased. "I should've propositioned Malfoy years ago."

Charlie's eyes narrowed in annoyance, even though he knew she was only teasing. "There'll be no need for that anymore. If you wanted me here, you could've just asked."

Hermione's smile faded into a neutral expression. "I would never ask you to leave your dragons," she assured him softly, acceptingly.

"Hmm... maybe that's what made me risk giving them up," Charlie pondered aloud. "Because you'd never ask."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Charlie..."

"No," He surged ahead, knowing he had to get this out. Whether she was marrying Malfoy or not, that didn't change the intention with which he'd come home. "You don't understand how long you've been in my head, Hermione." He stepped towards her, grateful she didn't back away. His hands snuck along her neck, tilting her head up. "I thought it'd be fine, but nothing felt right. I always felt like I was missing something. In the beginning, I thought it was just guilt. But when Ginny told me about Malfoy, I realized it was a lot more selfish than that."

Hermione leaned into his warm touch, feeling safe in his hold. She was always the composed one for her friends, and yet with Charlie, she still felt like she could let go- even after nearly five years.

"I could never forget the remarkable witch who so easily laid down everything for the sake of the war and those she loved," he whispered affectionately.

"I never forgot either, you know," she admitted. "No one else felt quite right. Eventually, I just gave up trying."

He leaned down slowly, his lips hovering over hers as his eyes flickered to her eyes for permission. Hermione closed the distance between them, a small smile playing on her lips. She gasped into his open mouth when he deepened the kiss, and he walked her backward with his large hands digging into her hips. She felt the back of the couch before he lifted her onto it, and she clutched onto his broad shoulders to steady herself.

Drowning in his long, drugging kisses, she startled when she felt his hand edge up the flowy fabric of her skirt. Feeling her tens suddenly, Charlie pulled back questioningly.

"Problem?"

"N-no," Hermione stammered, biting her tongue for putting a stop to his ministrations. "It's just... we probably shouldn't complicate this. I mean, you'll have to leave soon, and I don't want there to be unresolved tensions between us."

Charlie smirked as he leaned over her, his hands resting on either side of her hips, taking pleasure in the way she held on to him to keep from falling over the couch.

"I'm not leaving, Hermione."

"What?" Her gaze flew up to his.

"You heard me. I'm staying."

"But- how? Charlie, you can't leave the dragons, you love your job!"

"I know," he said seriously.

"I don't want you to regret this in the long term," she rambled.

"Hermione-"

"And you _will_ regret it, I wouldn't want you to-"

"HERMIONE! You don't have to worry about me giving up the dragons," he chuckled as she stared at him with wide eyes.

"You're not..?"

"I did a little digging, and imagine my surprise when I find out that the Ministry is trying to open a new dragon reserve in Scotland. Did you know there are several dragons native to Celtic culture and the UK?"

"Uh... I had heard that, yes," Hermione whispered. "So, you're..."

"Meet the new head of the reserve," he smiled.

Hermione watched him in blank disbelief for a moment, raising her eyebrow for confirmation. When he continued to smile at her warmly, she launched herself at him, kissing him with enthusiastic abandon. He groaned as she molded herself to him.

"I should've done this years ago." Charlie hauled Hermione into his strong arms, walking them over to the front of the couch before they both tumbled into the soft cushions.

"I wish you had," Hermione echoed feverishly, her fingers making quick work of the buttons on Charlie's shirt. Her hands traced the hard planes of his body reverently. She knew to work with dragons all day must keep Charlie in excellent shape, but she couldn't help the sharp inhale when she took in his body. Her husband was _fit_.

His hands roughly bunched her skirt around her waist and reveled in the softness of her skin. She felt a sharp tug around her knickers, followed by a tearing sound.

"Charlie!" She cried in surprised amusement.

"I'll replace it, I promise," he mumbled as he threw the tattered shreds of her knickers to the floor, his hot mouth traveling down the plane of her torso. She shivered at the warmth of his breath, which she could still feel through the thin fabric of her dress. Before he could head any further south, Hermione yanked him back up with a sharp tug on his hair.

"So impatient," he teased, following her direction.

"If you're staying, we have the rest of our lives to explore," she said breathlessly, her hands finding the buckle to his trousers. "We're still expected at the Burrow for brunch."

"You're actually planning to still go?" He asked incredulously.

Hermione rolled her eyes as she pushed his trousers and boxers down just enough. "If you don't want half your family showing up to see what's holding me up, I suggest you hurry."

Charlie groaned torturously as his straining length made contact with her warm core. "Maybe we should just wait." Though that was the last thing he wanted.

Clearly, Hermione shared the sentiment because she pulled him closer with a vice-like grip of her legs around his hips. "I swear to Godric, Charlie Weasley if you do not fuck me right now I'll-"

Hermione's breath stuttered, and her vision went unfocused as he drove into her with one swift thrust. He cursed under his breath, his head dropping to the exposed skin between her cleavage.

"Merlin, Hermione," he whispered, taking controlled breaths. "How long has it been for you?"

"I don't remember," she squirmed, relishing the filling sensation of his merely being in her. "Definitely over a year."

They moved together, learning each other for the first time. He loved the way her nails raked down his back when he thurst particularly deep, and the small breathless whimpers she couldn't contain when she was close. She exalted from the way his hands clenched on her hips whenever she squeezed him like a warm glove. He set a punishing pace, and she was only too happy to let him. How many times had she imagined it was him in her bed and not some random date she'd only kick out the next morning? How many times had she woken up with the phantom of their first and only kiss disappearing with her dreams?

He laid atop her afterward, both of them breathing hard. Any other time, she would've welcomed the anchoring sensation oh his weight, but she realized with a start they were still expected at the Burrow.

"We're so late," Hermione cried, pushing Charlie off to climb to her feet haphazardly.

"I think mum will forgive you when I tell her you convinced me to come back for good," he grinned devilishly, his long locks hanging around his face mussed- as he'd just been thoroughly shagged.

Hermione rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Get dressed? And fix that hair, would you?" She said sheepishly, running a hand through the locks affectionately. "Otherwise, everyone will know what we've been up to."

"Like they won't already," he smirked. "Where are you going?" He cried after her as she raced up the stairs.

"To get a pair of knickers!" She shouted back.

He grinned in satisfaction, spotting the shreds of the one he'd torn off her near the coffee table.

"You could've just gone without," he told her as she came back, her own hair tamer now than it had been once he'd gone through it.

"There are kids at the brunches!" She said scandalized. "Ones short enough to catch a glimpse up my skirt, might I add!"

"Pity," Charlie stated.

"Well, one of them is mine," Hermione said uncertainly, fidgeting with her skirt uncertainly. "I know Harry's technically his godfather, but he's already agreed I can essentially raise Teddy."

Charlie's eyes softened on the suddenly unsure witch.

"It's just- I know you never wanted kids, really. But Teddy's already part of my life, and I wouldn't-"

"Hermione," Charlie interrupted softly, catching hold of her busy hands and squeezing reassuringly. "I thought I didn't want a lot of things, a wife included. A lot's changed."

"So, you're okay with Teddy?"

"Tonks was one of my best friends back at Hogwarts," Charlie admitted. "She and I were like you and Harry. Even if I didn't still want kids, it would be an honor and a privilege to raise hers."

"He's very easy to love, you know," she told him softly.

"I have no doubt," he smiled. "He looked ready to drag you away from the big, bad Weasley."

"He's a bit protective of me," she admitted with a laugh.

"I can't wait until you tell him I'm not just 'a friend.'" Charlie chuckled, taking hold of her hand as they prepared to apparate back to the Burrow.

"Oh Merlin," Hermione groaned. "You thought you had to win _me _back. Wait until we tell Teddy."


	15. DARK KNIGHTS

**《 DARK KNIGHTS 》**

_... Not all of them can be redeemed, and few of them deserve it. But of course, Hermione Granger would be the one willing to try..._


End file.
